#i researched how to fix pipes for this
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hurt (boxer!steve x librarian!fem reader)
summary: steve’s looking to blow off some steam after his first title fight loss, and you tend to him the best you know how.
uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.
♡ the king of ring ♡
tags: make way for steve's ego!, smut, like...accidental size kink idk how that happened honestly, steve's not an official dom b/c we don't do that anymore around here but he's a dom, little bit of blood, more biting!!, bruising.
dallas, texas april 1991
"Goddamn it!"
The door to Steve's dressing room flung open, hurling toward the wall with a resounding bang. You flinched, slowly standing to your feet from your place on the leather couch. You were carted back stage by an assistant a few minutes ago, just as the arena, and all of America, saw the referee raise Steve's opponent's fist in victory—for the first time in his career.
Steve stomped into the room, beat red and dripping sweat. He was practically steaming. Your palms slicked as Big and Mikey trailed in behind him, prepared to do damage control.
"Harrington...it happens—"
"—to amateurs. To losers. Not to me," Steve snapped, voice booming and sharper than a sword. You jumped again when his gloves went flying into the wall.
He flattened his damp hair against his skull, fingers jumping and arms buzzing. You could see it brewing on his face—he was going to explode. His jaw clenched, his eyes darted around the room, he began to pace. Tick, tick, tick. It was only a matter of time before he'd burst.
"It's one loss, Steve," you piped up, stepping toward him to comfort. "It's really not that big of a deal in the grand scheme of—"
"Undefeated, Libby. Y' know what undefeated fuckin' means?"
You felt the strain of muscles in your face, how gravity pulled them downward. Big, hands on his hips and head cocked disapprovingly, glanced at you. It was getting easier to spot the cracks between the pair of you these days.
"Steve," you sighed, gathering his gloves from the floor to place them in his bag. "I'm just saying—"
"—I'm not supposed to fucking lose! And maybe I wouldn't 've, if you did your fuckin' research."
You craned to look over your shoulder, finding Steve's gaze on his coach. Steve had taken a step closer, now toe to toe with a man much larger than him. Big—graced with a name that, in all reality, didn't do the sheer size of him justice—fixed Steve with a steady, unimpressed stare. But the thing about Steve when he was angry? Truly angry, seething, seeing black.
He'd fight anyone just to feel release.
"Come on, man," Big huffed, head shaking.
You zipped up Steve's duffel, sinking down on the couch again to rub your temples. This was going to be a long night.
"He was a switch hitter. Woulda been a good thing to know...don't you think? Huh?" Steve sneered, looking up his nose at his coach.
Big held his hands up in surrender. "These things happen, Harrington—"
"Not. To. Me."
The room fell to a ringing silence. Mikey lingered near the door, anxiously petting his mustache. The paparazzi were waiting, huddled at the end of the tunnel for a snap of Steve, 'The King of the Ring' Harrington's first loss. He had a post-fight conference in forty minutes. The endorsement representatives would be coming by to offer their pitiful condolences that you knew would only enrage him.
"They don't fuckin' happen to me," Steve growled, pounding at his glistening, heaving chest with a gauze-wrapped fist.
Big just shrugged, watching Steve turn to stomp your way. You stood, reaching for his arms. All you wanted was to comfort him, soothe him, bring him back to that grumpy but agreeable Steve you all knew. You'd never seen him like this—because he'd never been like this. He'd never lost.
Big inched forward on one foot, but when Steve was merely stiff and silent in your gentle, stroking touch, the coach backed away toward the door. He was always a little cautious after the incident in New York last year. He didn't like the way Steve grabbed you, and he didn't like the way he kept doing it ever since.
Mikey opened and closed his mouth like a gaping fish, searching for something to say but too afraid to muster it into words. Steve looked murderous. His huffing and puffing was so loud you worried he'd start to hyperventilate.
"Try to cool it before the cameras start, would you?" Big opened the door, turning to direct a pointed look Steve's way.
Steve, facing you but glaring over your head at the wall, turned sharply toward his coach. "Fuck you."
The door muffled Big's sigh, and you parroted the sound as Mikey disappeared behind him and Steve immediately ripped away from you. Your hands fell to your sides limply, chest squeezing tight.
"Steve—"
"—m' showering."
You took a small step after him toward the showers. "But—"
He stomped off, sneakers slapping on the damp tile. He disappeared around the corner, and you deflated in the center of the dressing room with a frown. When the stream of water hissed, you sank back down on the couch and waited, eyes aching and head pounding, a sour taste like acid in your mouth.
♡ ♡
Steve skipped the press conference. The press would call him a sore loser, his opponent would look like a gracious, genuine fighter, and his endorsements would call Mikey berating and scolding him for his client's actions.
But Steve didn't care. He couldn't face a crowd of reporters and paparazzi as a loser. A failure. He'd face them as a winner, or nothing at all.
They called him The King. His crown was starting to fall. You just wished he could step down from the throne every once in a while.
On the ride home, you reached for his hand and flinched when he flicked yours back into your lap. You searched for his eyes but met only the side of his face. Those hard cheekbones, purpled and blued; that swollen brow bone, torn at the corner and weeping red. His lip was fat and he kept running his tongue over the slit in the righthand corner. You knew he was reveling in the sting, bathing in the pain. He needed it when his fists started shaking like this.
Yet despite the visceral fury physically steaming off him, he was eerily...calm. Calm for Steve, calm for a man with a head as a hot as hell itself.
When Steve was silent like this, you knew a nightmare was brewing.
The car pulled in front of the hotel doors, and Steve yanked your door open with such monstrous force that you worried it would come right off the hinges. Some men had a Midas touch. Steve's was Herculean.
He was silent in the elevator, huffing only short, sharp breaths through his nose. He was silent through the hall, stomping with long, bounding strides. He was silent when he slammed the hotel door after you and tossed his duffel on the velvet chaise lounge near the bar. He was silent as he eased back against the black marble and crossed his arms.
You slowly slipped off your heels, hooking your fingers in the straps to bring them toward your luggage in the other room. You eyed him carefully as you passed him, breezing by in a whiff of sweet, citrusy perfume. The diamonds in your ears flashed his eye with a streak of white, catching the lamplight on the end table.
You were nearly to your destination when his gruff voice cut through the tender quiet.
"C'mere."
You paused, surprised just by the sound of his voice. You turned halfway, digesting his demand. Stern, rigid, empty. It mirrored his expression: emotionless. Your heels dangled near your thigh, fingers curling tighter around the straps.
Steve lifted his chin, eyes rolling away from the floor to fix steady on you. They held that heavy-hooded look you were always wary of. He had his fists tucked under his biceps, enlarging the bulging muscles, protruding the overworked veins. The thin black cotton stretched across his body strained.
Your cheeks flamed and your insides wriggled about the same way they do when he whispers in your ear. You stepped your legs a little closer to each other, tightening between your thighs.
"Steve, I—"
"—come. here."
You held his gaze, face half shadowed by the dark side of the room, brightened by the gentle lamplight on the other. His chest rose and fell steadily, and yours struggled with every inhale. He didn't twitch an inch, didn't move a muscle. The solidity to his steadiness always unnerved you. Right now, it made you want to take a bite of his bicep, where the skin was warm and firm and you knew it would taste like salty sweat.
Right now, the way he was staring at you like you had no other choice but to come to him—like he knew you would listen to him because he had such a deep, clawing, biblically powerful hold over you—made you want to devour him.
You dropped your heels on the carpet, where they landed with a muffled thud. You took small, breezy steps toward him. You felt like you were gliding. You felt so much smaller than you were, so minuscule and tiny under his pinning stare. You felt like he could cup you into his hands and crush you, and something about that thought made you tingle.
You came to a stop when your toes brushed his boots, sweaty sneakers discarded in his gym bag. Palms sticky at your sides, fingers grasping for the hem of your black dress, you tipped your head back to meet his gaze when he slipped one hand from under his arm and tucked it under your chin. Propped between his index and thumb, you let him tug you closer—urge you with just the gentlest of pressure. Your stomach pressed against his belt, and the way his head tipped to gaze down at you made your breath hitch.
Still resting against the marble, Steve seemed cool and eased as he bent to meet your mouth. You trembled on the tops of your toes, too impatient to wait for him to meet you, too desperate to find his lips and taste them. He'd never tell you, but he found it sweet, how mindlessly eager you got for even the smallest of his affections.
Your eyes sank closed when your mouths touched. Gently at first, but with an inch from Steve, his mouth molded against yours with a firmness most like his usual affections. A firmness unyielding, leaving no room for breath and no space for escape. But you were happily pliant to his hand spreading to hold your jaw in his wide palm, nearly sighing in relief when he finally switched from impassively cool to the Steve you knew:
Forceful. Mean. Rough.
His tongue swept your bottom lip like the tickle of a feather, though your giggle became a strangled whimper when his spare hand came to gather the hair at the nape of your neck. Free from confines and soft from hotel shampoo, it was a welcome feeling in his palm, and like he couldn't stop himself from reaching for more of it, he yanked. Fist curled tight against your scalp at the back of your head near your neck, he tugged just once—hard.
You popped away from his mouth with a wet smack and a scratchy whine, catching flashes of striped wallpaper before his mouth attached to your neck and sent you flying into blurriness. You held onto him for dear life, hands leaving splotchy white marks on his biceps. And just as you suspected: they were hot and soft, stiff and massive.
He latched onto the column of your throat with a suction like a vacuum, and you caught glimmers of starlight as he lapped and nipped. His teeth scraped the wet mark when he pulled away, and your body gave a convulsing shiver that, this time, made him exhale a chuckle against your skin. His nose slid through the slick spit, gliding across your throat and up your chin, brushing your cheek when he met your mouth again. His hand returned to your jaw to squeeze, the other still firmly planted in your hair. Your scalp began to buzz in a way that felt like a dead tingle.
The kiss was delicate this time. Careful, precise, like he was worried he'd break you. But Steve never worried about breaking you. He liked you that way. He loved how much you needed him to make sense of you.
Steve slowly pulled back, waiting until your eyes fluttered open and blinked at him with slow, breathless beats before rubbing the pad of his thumb over your swollen mouth. His own seemed a little larger, and as he tipped his head toward the light, you realized his lip had split open again with the force of his kiss. Your tongue immediately sought the remnants on your mouth, relieved to locate the metallic taste just past your bottom lip on your chin.
Steve's lip twitched at that.
"On the bed, baby." His voice was so soft that you were sure you'd fabricated it.
But then he let go of your hair and dropped his hands to his sides, and before he could blink in that expectant, impatient way, you spun around and hurried toward the bed. You were on your knees and about to reach for your zipper when Steve caught your wrists. It was the smack of skin on skin that made you freeze, catching his eye to find it empty again.
"Ah-ah," he scolded gruffly. "Hands down. I'll do it."
He released you and you obeyed, lowering your hands to your sides. Steve inched closer, and your head met his chest as he curled over the front of you to find the back. You inhaled quietly, searching for his scent. Muddled soap and heavy sweat, a cigarette smoked in the lot on the way to the cab. You brought your hands to his stomach and slipped them under his skirt, sweeping them across his muscular sides. He twitched, chuckling deeply despite himself against your neck. Your zipper snicked as it escaped your spine and fell to your tailbone, and your dress pooled in your lap as Steve stood tall again.
You tipped your head back to gaze at him, cheeks swollen with heat and lip caught between your teeth. Your hands were still under his shirt, still gripping him like a toy. He gave you it, pulling his shirt over his head with a tug of the back collar. It flew across the room in a dash of black fabric, and then you were gazing at his lean-cut muscles peppered with black and blue and a few fading greens. His stomach flexed when you brought your fingers to circle the nearest bruise, a grunt balling in his throat.
You returned both hands to his sides, right above his belt. Leaning forward on your knees, you pressed your mouth to the warm patch of skin where blood pooled and painted him colorful. You puckered a gentle kiss. Steve swallowed, jeans tightening. Mouth still pressed against him, you lifted your eyes to gauge his expression and he felt like he could burst.
His hands slid into your hair, pushing your head back with a grip on both sides. You rubbed your thumbs into his muscles, massaging the strain.
"Does it hurt?"
He eased his grip on the right side of your face and brushed your hair behind your ear. He stroked your cheek with the back of his knuckles, head cocking toward his shoulder. The scabs of a bare-knuckle practice scratched the skin on your face in the nicest way. He still smelled like blood.
"I like it to," he said.
You pushed off on your heels, nose brushing his chin as you inched closer to his height. He slid your hair over your shoulder to bare your neck, placing the breeze of his knuckles there.
"Me too."
Steve's eyes snapped away from your neck toward your own, a brief flash of surprise seeping through the brutish void. When you gnawed on your lip and danced your fingers over the firm leather of his belt, he let the surprise slip away as swiftly as it came.
In its place came the animalistic need to tear you apart.
He pushed your hands away without a word, and you sank back down to your heels on the mattress, watching with round, welled up eyes as he undid his belt. The buckle clinked and hung loose at his pelvis. The zipper snicked. The denim of his jeans whooshed down his legs. In only his boxers, tight against him and leaving nothing to the imagination, he resumed his hold on your face to direct your attention back to his eyes.
He pulled at the sleeve of your dress hanging limply in your lap. "Off."
You made quick work of discarding the fabric, sliding it down your legs and throwing it away. Steve snapped your bra strap next, and you bent your arms behind your back to unhook the band. All he had to do was flicker his eyes toward your panties for you to remove those, too.
When you were naked, you waited a beat. A moment of such palpable silence that you were certain he'd hear your heart beating. With the way your blood started rushing to your ears, pumping with such forceful gushes and thumps, you could barely hear anything over it yourself.
Then you reached for his bulge, aching and waiting, unable to contain yourself. Once more he grabbed your wrist, holding your touch away from him. You reached with the other hand, happy to play his game. He grabbed that one, too, and soon he had you right where he wanted.
Though, not quite.
He slammed you against the mattress on your back. Pinned by his hold on your arms, flattened by his weight pressing down on you. Your heart moved to your throat, throbbing wildly. Your legs instinctually parted to make room for him between them.
Steve searched between your eyes, bouncing between left and right, inhaling your every exhale. When he saw nothing but bliss, he slid your arms above your head and crossed your wrists together. Gripping them in one big palm, he used the other hand to mark a path down your side that had you squirming and shivering. You giggled when he circled your navel, only to gasp when he swept two fingers down your pelvis.
He knew your body like the back of his hand. He knew every route to take. He knew the shortcuts that would bring you to your fastest peak. He knew the long, winding paths that would make you whine and cry and beg him to cut you a break.
He knew you.
Just like you knew him, and how much he needed to be the biggest in the room. How much he needed this power over you, this control over you. Sometimes, he traveled too far. Sometimes, your favorite thing in the world was when he took over the wheel.
You wanted his control. You needed it.
Steve gently guided the tips of those two fingers between your legs, pushing just gently past the warm, squishy barrier. You sucked him in, mouth unhinging with another gasp when he sank the length of his fingers in entirely. The grip you had on him was tight, and your thighs were already shaking when he brought his thumb to your clit, beating and pulsing with want for his attention.
"You like it to hurt," he whispered, eyes sliding briefly toward your bare chest before your eyes again.
You bobbed your head, face so hot it hurt. "Yes."
"Do you want it to hurt, angel?"
"Please."
Steve didn't let you wait, and for this you were grateful. His hair tickled your cheek, his breath fanned your neck, and then his mouth was clamping onto the patch of tender muscle between your shoulder and neck. His teeth sank in, delivering a dull sting that made you shriek. He pulled away when you began to pant.
He moved his mouth to your breast, fingers loosening around your wrists. He sank into the squishy fat, gathering a chunk of it between his teeth. It stung a little sharper, hurt a little better. You cried out this time, and he pumped his fingers in a gentle push and pull as he moved to the other breast. You could barely suck in a breath.
Wet patches caught gusts of cool air as he maneuvered over your body, covering you in his mouth and leaving you with his teethmarks to prove it. He released your wrists, but your head was so fuzzy and full of air that you didn't even think to move them. Steve wanted them there. You wanted what Steve wanted.
Steve clamped down on your waist, following the valley of your curves. You jerked the other way, body instinctually recoiling. He bit into your hip, then your thigh, then your stomach, then the thin skin just above your pelvis. He had you covered in him and writhing for more, cheeks soaked with tears he was certain you didn't even know were shed.
Face pinched and pooling with red-hot heat, you gasped for air and arched off the bed. Steve's fingers worked deeper between your legs. His thumb rubbed with the firmest pressure in just the right spot. You stomped your feet against the mattress and whined, long and howling.
"Steeeeve."
It burned, he could tell. He could tell by the way you trembled and closed your legs around his hands. He could tell by the way you blinked tears to the ceiling, how you balled your hands into fists—still above your head. You couldn't hold steady and you looked close to nausea.
Steve settled on his knees between your legs, free hand smoothing over your wobbling thigh. He loomed over you with an empty expression, taking in your bare body and his mouth branding nearly every inch of it.
Just as you lifted your back again, hands flying down to grip the mattress in preparation for the orgasm winding a knot behind your navel, Steve ripped his fingers away. You cried—a pitiful, pathetic, snot-filled sob that sliced through the room and made Steve huff.
But Steve had mercy on you. He replaced his fingers with something better, and your cry dwindled to short sniffles as the head of his cock breached your throbbing entrance. He slid your thighs over his, pulled you down until you were forcing half of him in. You howled again, head tipping back, hands reaching for his. You found them on your waist, gripping in a vice.
With slow and steady caution, Steve eased between your legs and mounted over you once more. He propped himself on his forearms, caged on either side of your shoulders to squish your arms against your sides. There was nowhere for you to run. You were inching close to orgasm again already just at the thought.
Steve cupped his palm over the crown of your head and leaned in until his nose brushed your own. His thumb pressed against your forehead, his breath tickled your open, shining mouth. You could see the blood gathering on his lip again. It wobbled there, at the split seam of soft tissue. It glistened and, in your foggy, fucked-out mind: it called to you.
You swept it up with your tongue, sucking with a gentle pull that made Steve's seem cruel. But even that delicate, meek suction had him groaning, had him bucking into you wildly. You released him and he followed the metallic scent of your breath, thanking you for his brief sting with a nip on your bottom lip.
'Hurt me, so I can hurt you.'
And squished under him, taking every assault of teeth and lapping up the blood, you found something in pain you never knew was possible: peace.
A simple, mindless transaction. I hurt you, you hurt me. This is how we say I love you.
Hurt me. So I can hurt you.
Steve pressed your heads together, rutting into you so deep you almost thought you could feel him in your throat. But maybe that was just more tears, pooling and lumping until you couldn't swallow past it. So you released it, weeping in a way that had Steve kissing your hot, sticky cheeks just to ease the hysteria. But he wanted those tears, and he basked in how they tasted on his mouth.
In one final effort, one last turn toward his destination, Steve reared back just enough to bring his hand down on your ass, thigh hitched over his hip to bare it to him. It slammed down with a sharp clap, delivering a sting that spread like wildfire and reverberated through your thighs and spine.
It was exactly what you needed to shatter. It sent you stumbling, clinging to Steve like you'd fall apart without him holding you steady. You weren't entirely sure that was false. You whimpered into his neck, fingers buzzing against his back. You sounded so pathetic, sniffling and hiccuping like that. Steve kissed your jaw and caught a glimpse of the blotchy bruise he left on your neck. You'd be stuck with it for days.
Steve spilled into you, raw and warm, sticky and disgusting. He brushed his nose against your bruise and felt it throb. He ran his thumb over the red shape of his mouth on your hip as he slipped from between your legs. He brushed his hair back against his head and licked the blood from his split lip. His knuckles had broken open and stained the white sheets near your head.
On sore thighs and wobbling knees, Steve settled between your limp legs once more and gazed down at the mess he made. He brushed your hair from your eyes and cradled your cheek. Still catching your breath, you leaned into his hold with heady exhaustion, placing your hand over his. You'd be just as bruised as Steve tomorrow morning, and you'd marvel in the mirror at the pretty colors he painted you with.
And the best thing about it? Steve wasn't hurting anymore. He gave it all to you.
♡ ♡
#rolly!#boxer!steve harrington#steve harrington#steve harrington smut#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fanfiction#joe keery#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x female reader smut#steve harrington x y/n smut#steve harrington fic#steve harrington au#dark steve harrington#steve harrington x fem#joe keery fanfiction#joe keery fic
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“and they were roommates” ; albedo & diluc
summary — what is he like as your roommate? in correlation, how does he often act around his home shared with you?
includes — albedo and diluc (w/ gender-neutral reader) ; separate
tags — fluff, domestic fluff if you squint so hard, no established relationship, some sprinkle of smau ; headcanons
note — surprise, there is no note ; masterlist
albedo, the helpful and kind roommate, also an artist and somewhat a friend
a genius, a roommate, and a friend (maybe). minds his own business and does his own things but he is willing to help you at most times, he wouldn’t mind tutoring you if you’re a student who needs guidance or wouldn’t mind fixing the pipes if ever it gets broken—i mean, that would affect him also if it breaks down as you two share the same home. he’ll figure things out on his own even if he doesn’t have that much experience with such tasks.
he’s an artist and you’ve seen some of his artworks when you pass by his open room. however, he never talked about it, his art, so if he didn’t leave his door open and if you hadn’t taken a peek inside, you wouldn’t have seen him painting—if you didn’t ask him about it, you’ll never know of it.
probably loves fruits, unsure since he never said it out loud but will always bring some home whenever he goes out—there’s always a basket of it on the table or a container in the fridge—and will even slice or peel it for you, sending you a photo and a message if you want some. you honestly don’t know how that string began but it just happened, peeling oranges for you and sharing just became a normal thing on a hot—perhaps summer—day.
he’s quiet most of the time, doesn’t talk a lot and texts from him first are not a common thing, but that doesn’t mean he’s not willing to engage in a conversation with you and you get along with him just fine. he’s not some emotionless stuck up jerk, he’s very much the opposite of that. he’s caring, gentle, and attentive. he doesn’t leave a mess around unless it’s in his room and he does his own fair share of chores.
his room is somewhat divided into two spaces: rest and work area and the latter space is always messy. cleaning it up is just futile effort as it only gets untidy afterwards. there are all kinds of items and things inside, materials for his art and work or research, expensive equipment lying around his room, and a shelf with different kinds of books. along with some of his paintings that he put up, there are also papers that he taped on the wall, ideas and reminders that he can’t afford to forget.
diluc, just your simple and average thoughtful roommate, a bartender and an old soul
god, he’s just so sweet, attentive, and caring, and if you two aren’t dating, you wish you were. he lets you borrow one of his shirts (even if you have some in your closet but his j ust smells so good and it’s also so comfortable and soft to wear), he doesn’t mind it at all as long as you don’t go digging deeper into his room—not just the clothes—and invading his personal space and overstepping your boundaries. he lets you borrow some of his things also as long as you’ll ask for permission.
he’s not much of a morning person, getting out of his bed when it’s nearly afternoon already. if ever he wakes up early, he’ll stay inside his room probably just laying on his bed and catching to more sleep or cherishing his alone time and making the most out of it, he wallows in the warmth of the sunlight that seeps into his room and lays at his floor and the silence that engulfs him—it’s just peaceful and comforting.
speaking of his room, he has a simple one, adorned with small decorations and a few framed photos, and everything is always neat and tidy. all of his things are stored where they should be. there’s nothing much to describe here except it’s clean and organized with a faint smell of his cologne. he does have a collection of vintage and old items placed around his room such as a phonograph on his table and an antique vase on the corner.
he works part-time as a bartender—from afternoon until night. that’s why he’s often out late but he tells you in advance, either through a call or text message, whatever his mood is. although it’s not everyday that he works since he’s at home on some days. during those times, he’ll be the one to cook and would do chores around the house, letting you rest instead.
he lets you try some of the drinks he made, non-alcoholic if you don’t want alcohol, and would ask for your opinion. he’ll prefer it if you’re honest—lying wouldn’t be beneficial here. but then all of the ones he makes are all good so there’s no need to fabricate and sugarcoat your words to please him.
© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.
#genshin impact#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#genshin imagines#genshin fluff#genshin headcanons#albedo x reader#albedo#albedo x you#genshin albedo#albedo headcanons#diluc x reader#diluc x you#genshin diluc#diluc#diluc headcanons#genshin x you#genshin impact fluff#azul.writes
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Do you have some headcanons of Daisy's and Luigi's love languages they display in the relationship?
Oh man, you know what? You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for an ask like this since…well, Ever! I LOVE these kind of things! I had to do a quick research to brush up on what Love Languages are again. So I took inspiration from some templates I found online. Sprinkled in with a little bit of the Movie-Verse Headcanons.
I guess this is a potential Part 1 of Luaisy headcanons? All because I’m unfortunately not able to list them all as of now!
But, Here we go! Hope you enjoy. Sorry if this ends up being a super long one though, haha.
- Acts of Service -
💚 Luigi would be more than happy and willing to tend to any Plumbing relate problems Daisy has. This is one of the only few times where even if he doesn’t even know the full situation of the problem, he never says no to her needing help, and dives head first without hesitation…
• Even if it means literally diving into that now rising flooding castle basement of hers, just to locate and fix that pesky broken pipe system!
🌼 💚 Cooking for each other. Unlike when I think Peach lovingly does most, if not all of the cooking for Mario. Cooking seems to become a thing divided equally between Luigi and Daisy.
• Luigi is known to be the best at Dinners. Some of his experience gained from helping his Mama back in Brooklyn growing up. And helping Mario cook too. One of his favorite meals he always loves to share with Daisy on occasion, is his mother’s classic Pasta recipes!
🌼 Plumbing can be real exhausting work sometimes! So Daisy is usually the one to fix up some either some real ice-cool drinks to personably bring to him in sweltering heat. Or Make him some hot cocoa or coffee for the really cold days. She’ll even bring some snacks, or even lunch if it’s almost time for a break.
🌼 Whenever she can be there, Daisy would always sit around and keep Luigi company while he worked. Also for the fact so she can pass him tools that he might need during work. Or even better, hold the fort as best as she can to prevent little mishaps that may occur. Need someone to hit a pipe to get it working? Need an extra set of strength to turn that creaky faucet? Trust Daisy to help out too!
- Physical Touch -
💚 Luigi is so, so, SO gentle with Daisy. Not in a way where he believes that she is perceived to be ‘Delicate’. He has faith that she can handle herself of course! But that’s just simply in his nature with everyone else too. Very little to no aggressive or intimidating body language. And with her? It’s just extra sweet.
• He knows she’s strong. But he can’t help but be the one to look out for her and be worried for her sometimes. When he sees her all scuffed up from fights, he offers to bring her water, ointment, bandages, whatever she requests. At first he allows her to try and heal herself. But If Daisy needs more help, he would step in to help tend to her wounds as much as possible.
💚 Luigi was is the most nervous and hesitant in initiating any form of touch at first. He didn’t want to make the wrong moves or anything! But upon the first hug and some vocal encouragement, it was a sign for him that he is on the right track.
He slowly gets more confident in holding hands with her, having an arm around her waist (Although, he can’t help but melt a little at the fact that he could be THIS close to someone he loves!)
💚 Kisses on his nose get’s him all smiley right away! Daisy ends up doing these out of surprise, and it just gets him so much. Kiss him on the cheek? Instantly giddy. She kisses him on the lips? Immediate knockout. He’s giving the Heart-eyes vibe. This is Something he shares in common with his bro too!
💚 When Luigi sees Daisy on the verge of lashing out at someone. He’s the first to quietly take her hand in his to gently squeeze it. This either gets her to look at him, which he gives a nod and look of reassurance for her to think things through. Or it’s almost like an instant touch that needs no words nor looks. But it has an instant affect on her. She rarely gets directly angry at him ever. How can she be mad at someone just so sweet to her? She knows he genuinely wants to help her.
• Sometimes he chooses to gently rub her hands instead. Also an equally effective calming effect.
💚 If Daisy ever feels down or at her worst, he more than welcomes her with open arms, and does not ever judge her for crying (something she rarely ever shows in public. Always putting a strong face.) It matters very little to him in the moment that his hat or clothes would be tear-soaked.
💚 Speaking on the note of a Sad Daisy. There are a few trigger moments which if you end up hurting Daisy, can make this sweet and timid Greed Plumber, decide that enough is enough. There is a reason why his Trope is known as a ‘Cowardly Lion’!
💚 He will try to place himself in front of her always. Whether it is him jumping in front of her to take whatever brunt of force was directed at her without thinking. Or steeling himself up to give stare down (albeit with quaking knees) in front of his enemy.
He starts of with a slight quiver in his voice. But if you continue to mock him or her a second time, the shakiness in his tone fades. Becoming a bit more determined. A quiet strength. At that point, he will not allow you to push him around and insult Daisy like that. Even if he might get knocked around a bit, he keeps getting back up, just to stand up for her.
💚 He’ll even try to use his hat at some points if he needs to cover her face more for protection.
💚 For some reason I feel like instead of usually carrying a Princess Bridal-style like Mario does. Luigi tends to carry Daisy on his back more. This often leads to escaping from some very comical situations!
🌼 Daisy is DEFINITELY the one who is not shy in expressing her affections naturally. But also really straightforward in her actions.
🌼 Ever experienced one of those surprise Run-at-top-speed Jump hugs? That’s Daisy for you! She often forgets to tone herself down sometimes.
🌼 Pulling him by the suspenders of his overalls gently just to kiss him.
🌼 She’s the one ending up carrying him like a bride instead HA
🌼 Like Luigi, Daisy is always one to step in front of her beloved to shield them from any potential danger. She is usually the one to Yank him out of the way with top speed (Apologizing immediately to him afterwards!) and pull him close to her body to try and cover and protect him as much as possible.
🌼 You would not be able to live it down if Daisy sees you harming or insulting Luigi. She is super quick on to you, ready to throw hands (And weapons, if in a fight)
🌼 She and Mario share the same kind of sentiments when it comes to standing up for Luigi.
“Say that again about my Boyfriend…And you’re gonna regret it!”
- Words of Affirmation -
🌼 Daisy is the one with the vast supply of pet names and complements!
🌼 The Iconic “Hey Sweetie!”
🌼 Buttercup, Honey-Bee, Weegie, Squeegie ect
🌼 If you don’t stop her, she may resort to floral Puns!
🌼 When it comes to support, she is like a really passionate cheerleader. You would definitely see her yelling her heart out at the sidelines of any event/competition/Kart race
🌼 When she writes notes or letters, Daisy tends to be the one who draws little doodles at the end of each letter, or just as little decorations here and there. Mario may or may not have accidentally revealed that he had caught Luigi chuckling at a letter he received from Daisy. Only to be told by his younger Bro that he found her drawings adorable and it made him smile. So she’s been doing that ever since!
💚 Luigi is a bit more reserved with this type of thing. But in fact, he is secretly the more poetic one! Surprisingly The type who’s words of love end up being a natural Cupid’s arrow.
💚 I see ‘Desert Flower’ as a popular head canon compliment he might say, and I also agree with that!
💚 Why do I feel like he would totally be the one to call her “My Dynamite Gal”??? When he’s mustered up so much confidence??
• Because Luigi is known to be more shy and timid, he does have more struggles with confidence in some parts. Leading to this possible little interaction:
—————————————————
💚 “ Face it…How can I even do this? I’m such a loser! I mean, look! I literally got a huge L on my head!”
🌼 “…Does It really have to mean Loser?”
💚 “H-huh? I-I…well what else can it be?”
🌼 “Well…put it this way. You’re kinda like a Clover!”
💚 “A…Clover?”
🌼 “Yeah! You ward off evil. You’re green all over. So How about…Lucky?”
—————————————————
- Quality Time -
💚 Luigi ends up loving taking strolls around the castle with Daisy. Whether it is in the Palace Gardens, or by lakes and rivers. Even Flower fields, where he’ll even attentively listen to her pointing out the new things.
💚 Luigi May end up getting challenged when he goes out on hiking trips with Daisy. The first few trips, he ends up faltering behind a little (He has bad knees everyone!), But Daisy would often slow her pace down a little so he can keep up. She doesn’t mind one bit. But overtime, he pushes to improve himself, in which he now is actually able to keep up by her side. She’s extremely proud of him
💚🌼 The Camping trips together are always fun though! Well, excluding some Minor scares and freak outs from the local wildlife at night. Luigi Teaching Daisy the classic treat of making a S’more. While Daisy would do something shared from her own land sometimes!
🌼 Daisy loves whenever she and Luigi get to go on one of their ‘Sports dates’, and is usually the one initiating these meetups (Knows all the good places!) while Luigi throws in suggestions. Usually consisting of Golfing especially. She is more knowledgeable in the technique, which she ends up teaching Luigi what she already knows. She likes to jokingly say that he’s “Learning from the best!”
🌼 If they end up moving in together and sharing the same bed, Daisy would be the type to wake up a bit earlier than Luigi does. Then goes back again to get some extra sleep hours. She has this little habit where she can’t help but give a little kiss on his cheek by then. If he continues to sleep, she lets him be. But if he ends up wanting to be woken up by this, she starts to go in for more kisses. Some of them are quick ticklish to him!
All until she’s gazing back at sleepy half-open eyes, A lopsided smile, and a very happy green Plumber who’s morning has just been made even better!
💚 On Luigi’s part, he’s the one who sleeps the last. Letting Daisy sleep first before him, as he sometimes has a bit of work he needs to attend to. Or just simply reading a few pages of his favourite book beside her.
• When he notices a lock of her hair astray on her face, he ends up brushing it aside for her. In that moment, he seriously cannot believe that this beautiful fiery woman is his beloved, and is right next to him.
- Receiving Gifts -
💚 It is a popular head canon going around that Daisy is very into gardening. So, Luigi would even go out of his way to brush up on said topics about Gardening and nature just for Daisy. Same thing that he would do when it comes to her other interests, just so he knows what to get her!
💚 He has really great callback memory, in which he is able to remember most of the conversations he would have with Daisy when she talks about various plants. Including seeds and flora she wishes she could obtain to grow in her castle Garden. So! Every often, he would visit the local markets or shops in the town, where he would check up all the latest imports/exports to see if he can find some uncommon, or even rare seeds for him to collect for her. If it’s something from Brooklyn, he most likely tries to buy seeds of flowers for her smaller pot plants!
If he goes on adventures with Mario, he does something similar where he collects various trinkets or souvenirs for him to take home for her, or send to her by mail.
🌼 Daisy is definitely more extravagant, and a bit more ‘flashy’ when it comes to gift giving. She does not do this to show off. She 100% fully believes that her believed deserves the best he can get…Even if it ends up giving him the biggest of blushes. And just so happens she can’t stop gushing about it either in her own way!
🌼 Actually at first, she might have been giving him ‘Weird’ gifts for the first few times when they became a couple. They’re not offensive gifts! But they were a result of her having misunderstood some of his hobbies and likes at the beginning. But never in bad faith, as she genuinely tried to guess what would make Luigi happy. But luckily with help from Peach and Mario, she got good results. And long the way, she started getting better at gift-giving.
🌼 I mean, have you seen that Golden statue of her and Luigi in her own Mario Kart Course? If she was the one who commissioned that, she would totally go THAT far.
🌼 She would go on a secret calling spree, prepare a huge birthday with all of his favorite foods, invite literally all of his friends and family as a complete surprise. Making the Green man crying out of happiness.
🌼 Well, not exactly a traditional kind of gift. But just for him, Daisy would end up wearing cute dresses or other outfits. Something he likes. But that’s because we all can’t deny, Daisy is still Daisy. She still loves to tease Luigi one way or another.
Green Bro may have been staring a little too long, as the Princess walks by in a tank-top and shorts combo!
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BUGS!!!! Idk when you’ll get this but it’s me Sav (munsonology) 👾
What if Eddie catches you in the adult section at family video and you’re caught with the kinkiest tape they have 🤤 Eddie’s shocked because this is beyond the beginners level y’all are at but intrigued that his perfect girl is actually freakier than him 🥵
Savvvvv I adore you and your smutty brain 💚 I hope you enjoy!
Warnings: smutttttt (18+ only, minors GO AWAY), adult films, bondage, piv, some crying, slight breeding kink (?) idk, language
WC: 2.1k
--
Eddie thought he knew you pretty well. You'd only been a couple for a few months, but you'd been friends for years prior to getting together. If someone asked him what your favorite pizza topping was, he could confidently say it was mushroom. You were definitely more of a night owl than an early bird. You wanted to travel the world; Eddie wanted more than anything to take you on an African safari like you'd always dreamed.
And up until the moment he caught you in Family Video, he would've sworn up and down that your guilty pleasure was cheesy romantic comedies.
You'd had to cancel your date with him to finish up a paper for the class you were taking at Hawkins Community College, so Eddie trekked over to visit Robin and Steve and find something to occupy his unexpectedly empty night.
"Hey, Munson!" Steve greets him cheerily. "How's it been?"
Eddie shrugs his shoulders. "Can't complain. Y/N has to get some work done tonight. Figured I'd see if you guys had any new releases I could check out."
Robin crinkles her nose. "Y/N?" she questions. "She's right over there." She points over to the curtained-off section of the store and glances at Eddie knowingly.
Eddie's jaw could've hit the floor. You watched porn? Sure, you were amazing in bed, always knowing how to touch him and turning him into putty. Was it because you had done extensive research in the adult section of Family Video?
He quietly shuffles over to where you're standing, browsing the various titles. You're not interested in the same-old generic "plumber fixes lonely housewife's pipes" or "pizza boy delivers extra-large sausage pizza to sorority girls." You want something different, something to relax you from your stressful midterms, something kinky.
A title jumps out at you: Bonded Babes. The cover shows a woman clad in barely-there lingerie, tied to the bed with a ball gag wedged between her crimson lips. Perfect.
"Holy shit." The sound of a man's voice startles you, and you let out a little yelp. You look up to see your boyfriend, his eyes glued to the VHS you'd just selected. You hide it behind your back, feeling your whole body blushing.
Eddie steps towards you. "Whatcha got there, sweetheart?" he prods, cocking his head to the side. "Because that doesn't look like a John Hughes flick to me."
"'S nothing," you mumble, embarrassment flooding through you. "Just wanted to decompress after writing this stupid paper."
"Mmm," Eddie says knowingly, "so let me see what helps you relax, baby girl."
You shake your head wordlessly.
Eddie laughs. "C'mon, you really think you're gonna scare me off?" he protests. "You don't even wanna know what I watch."
You raise an eyebrow and decide to explore that comment further at another time. "I-I should probably get home. Back to my essay." But he blocks your escape, placing a strong hand on your stomach.
"Hand it over," he orders, and you reluctantly oblige.
"Don't judge me," you plead. What if he sees what you chose and is freaked out? He wouldn't be the first guy who couldn't handle your kinks and desires.
"Hmm," Eddie says, looking carefully, "haven't seen this one yet." He gives you a mischievous grin. "Wanna watch it together?"
You clear your throat, caught off-guard by the suggestion. "It, uh, might not be your thing," you offer lamely.
"Well, I guess there's just one way to find out, sweetheart."
~
Your roommate is out for the night, drinking away her midterm week nerves, so you bring Eddie back to your place. He's all too eager to pop the video in the player, practically breaking down the door to the apartment.
"Okay," he says, plopping down next to you on the sofa and pressing play, "let's see what gets my girl going, hmm?"
As with most porn, there's no real plot. This one gives the smallest backstory about a woman who keeps talking back to her boyfriend. The boyfriend--a buff dude with a perfectly waxed chest--decides to punish her and shut her up while he has his way with her. He uses handcuffs on her wrists and ropes tied tight around her ankles. The pièce de résistance, of course, is the gag that allows for moans and whimpers and nothing else.
You bury your head in your hands. "I warned you," you whine, "it's, like, a lot."
For the first time in his life, Eddie Munson is speechless. He finally says, "Do you...want me to do this to you?"
"It's a lot, Eds," you repeat shyly. "We don't have to."
"What if I want to try it?" he asks, and you gawp incredulously, bringing a laugh to his lips. "I have all kinds of fantasies about you, baby. Don't be too surprised."
You maneuver yourself so you're straddling his lap, grinding your aching cunt across the crotch of his jeans. The friction from both of your clothes only makes you wetter. You kiss down his neck as he grabs your ass, squeezing and pulling you even closer to him.
"Let's try it," you whisper in his ear, biting his lobe. You hear the people on screen groaning and grunting exaggeratedly.
With that, Eddie lifts you, hands never leaving your ass. He brings you to your bedroom, dropping you on the bed and raking through your drawers for T-shirts, grabbing two of them.
"I got the cuffs," he says, patting the accessory on his belt, "but no ropes. Gotta improvise."
"So innovative," you tease, beckoning him back to you with a flutter of your eyelashes. His lips crash into yours, pushing you down onto the bed as he climbs on top of you. The weight of his body pressing into yours always gets you so hot; you try and cope by slipping your hand down into your jeans, beneath your panties.
Eddie breaks the kiss and hums disapprovingly. "Baby," he chastises, "you're not gonna get yourself off when I can do that for you." He removes your hand from your clit and pulls off your shirt, exposing a lacy white bra. He sucks on the exposed part of your breasts as he fiddles with the clasp, and you moan softly when he unhooks your bra and runs his fingers over your hardening nipples.
"You're not denying me this," he growls, tearing off your jeans. His thumb grazes your panties, and he throws his head back when he feels how wet you are. He gets on his knees and kisses your cunt through the thin fabric, loving each twitch of your legs.
Eddie hooks a finger into the waistband and yanks them down, shoving them in his back pocket. "Gonna need these later," he tells you, sending a shiver down your spine. "Lay back on the pillow for me, sweetheart."
You do as you're told, hearing the click of the handcuffs unlatching. Eddie snaps one on to your left wrist, loops the chain around one of the backboard spindles, and brings the other cuff around your right wrist. "Pull for me," he says, and when you demonstrate that you're stuck, he smiles wickedly.
He grabs the shirts--old concert tees, you realize gratefully, nothing expensive or fancy--and ties one around each ankle, then to the spindles on the footboard, legs spread widely. "Wriggle around for me, baby. Let me see how good I've got you." Sure enough, you kick your legs with incredibly restricted movement. "Perfect," he muses.
"Eddie," you whimper, "need you to touch me. Need your fingers or your tongue or your cock. Something, please."
He laughs at this, reaching back into his pocket. "Thanks for reminding me," he says roughly. You feel a piece of cloth between your lips as your soaked panties are shoved in your mouth. "Don't wanna hear a word from you; just those pretty little moans."
"Mhm," you manage.
“Oh, shit,” he mutters. “Safe words. Uh, just say peanut butter if you need me to stop.” You nod in response.
With that, he brings his lips to your torso, trailing kisses across your tits and down your stomach. The contrast between your completely naked body and his fully clothed one turns you on even more, if that’s possible.
You let out a whine as he licks a stripe along your folds, slick coating his chin. “Taste s’good,” he groans before finding your clit and sucking on it. A guttural sound escapes your throat at the sudden stimulation.
“Already overwhelmed, baby?” he teases, words vibrating into you. “Good.” He focuses his attention back to your sensitive bundle, caressing it with his tongue. You buck your hips as one finger enters your pussy, limited by the makeshift ties.
You’re waiting for him to place another digit inside you, like he normally does, but now is not the time to expect anything. Instead, he withdraws his finger and his mouth from your sex, undoing his pants button and pulling out his hard cock. He brings it to your lips, removing the gag, but stops you before you can suck it.
“Spit on it,” he demands, and you spit on his dick. He uses it as lube as he fucks his fist right in front of you, stuffing the panties back in your mouth.
“You see what you do to me? he snarls, “I want you to use your hands, but since you’re being punished, I have to do it myself.”
You want to tell him that he can fuck your face; or better yet, your pussy, but the gag prevents you from articulating this. You writhe against the handcuffs, craving touch.
Eddie uses his free hand to grip the wrist closest to him. “Nice try,” he smirks, “but you’re not gonna cum until I say you can. Got it?”
“Mhm,” you croak out. Tears gather at the corners of your eyes as your frustration mounts. He wipes one away with a smile.
“Poor thing,” he taunts, “wants my dick so badly that she’s fuckin’ crying for it, huh?” He pumps himself until he’s so hard it hurts, precum beading at the slit. “‘S your lucky day, sweetheart. If I don’t fuck you now, I’m gonna cum all over my hand. And why would I do that when your pretty pussy is right there?”
He places himself between your legs again, tapping on your outer thigh. “Lift these hips a little for me.” You lift them obediently. “That’s a good girl.” You whimper at the praise.
He uses the combination of your slick and his precum to push into you, stretching you and mixing pain with pleasure. “Can you say my name with your mouth full like that?”
“Eddie,” you groan. It comes out muffled but neither of you care. “Eddie, s’good.”
He thrusts into you harder, yelling out your name as he does. His voice is gravelly and intense. “Gonna cum inside of you. Gonna mark my fuckin’ territory.” You’ve been on the pill, and he knows this, but he’s never finished in you before without a condom, always pulling out and spilling onto your tits.
“Yes, Eddie,” you chant over and over as he rubs circles on your clit while fucking you.
“Be a good girl and cum for me. Show me how good I make you feel.” As soon as he says it, you release all over his cock, clenching around him as you hit your peak.
“You feel amazing,” he praises. “Can’t hold back anymore. Y’feel too good.” He empties inside you, long hot spurts coating your walls. When he’s done, a sweating and panting mess, you’re too sore to move. Still, you miss him in you as soon as he withdraws.
Eddie immediately removes the panties from your mouth, unlocks the cuffs, and unties the shirts. “Baby,” he purrs, “that was hot as shit.”
You nod in agreement. “Best sex I’ve ever had.”
He plants a long, gentle kiss on your mouth and runs to the bathroom, returning with a warm washcloth. “Let me clean you up.” He wipes down your inner thighs, kissing them when he’s done. “I know this wasn’t in the movie,” he says with a small smile, “but I wasn’t about to leave my girl a mess.”
You return the smile gratefully. “Thank you, Eds.”
He crawls back into bed facing you, pecking kisses on your nose. “I love you, my freaky girl.” He sighs dramatically. “I mean, I already knew you were the one for me, but this just sealed the fuckin’ deal!”
You giggle at his theatrics. “I love you, too,” you say, kissing his forehead. “And next time, you can pick the movie. I can’t be the only freak in this relationship.”
--
#eddie stranger things#eddie munson#eddie x you#eddie x reader#eddie munson smut#eddie munson stranger things#stranger things#stranger things fanfic#eddie munson fanfic#fanfic#smut#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x f!reader#perv!eddie#perv!eddie munson#requests
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(this can be answered publicly) Hey X, pardon me if you’ve answered this before, but I was just curious on how you ended up transitioning from academia to tech and what role you started with in tech? Also, so you have any advice for someone looking to break into tech from a non-STEM background? Thank you!
Hey! I haven't answered it publicly but it's a popular question, so I will now (warning, long answer is long).
So I was so fed up with academia for sundry reasons I won't get into here but I wanted a career that would allow me to A. retire some day (something that paid generally well), B. would allow me some measure of work/life balance without high stress, and C. Would ideally let me use my communication/writing/speaking/presenting skills in some way.
My parents and my partner all work in tech and were like, "did you know that we desperately need people with your skillsets in the tech world?" and my partner, who works in technical sales was like, "You would kill at my job, I am not lying." And I was like, every job listing in technical sales that I see requires either a degree I don't have or past experience I don't have, or both, and my mother was like "Do you know how many mediocre resumes from unqualified men come across my desk? Apply for the damn positions anyway." So I reworked my resume to focus on applicable skills/experiences and wrote a cover letter for each position I applied to saying "hey, I know I'm an odd candidate but let me tell you why that's a good thing." And I got a lot of positive responses!
I was interviewing at 2 different tech places when I accepted the offer for my job now. I had an initial screening call interview with HR, then a zoom interview with the hiring manager, and then I was given access to a limited demo environment and had a week to teach myself the software and put together a demo for a fake customer which I did for the hiring manager (my future boss), one of my current peers, and the VP of the org. I was offered the job the same night I did my fake demo. So in total it was a 2 week interview process, and I started working 2 weeks later. **
I'm a pre-sales solutions consultant, which basically means I'm paired with a sales guy who does all the money and business value talk with customers, while I get to learn about a customer's data problems and then demo for them how our products can address those problems.
The learning curve was (and still is) steep. But it was basically like going back to school, and I've always loved learning new things. The job is super fun. It fulfills all of my wants I listed above with the added bonus of being completely remote (aside from occasional travel to meet with customers for in-person demos). The people I work with are supportive, management is communicative and constantly giving me feedback/talking about my trajectory. I've won internal awards, already received two raises and one promotion and I haven't even been there a year. I'm making more than double what I did as a professor and the concept of retirement doesn't feel like a laughable pipe dream anymore. I miss teaching a lot, but I'm healthier, happier, and better prepared for the future now. And my work is genuinely fulfiling because I'm showing people how they can fix problems. Also, playing with data management software and putting together custom demos is neat. It's like all the best parts of a college project--research, making a preso, knocking everyone's socks off while giving the preso, but I'm getting paid for it. I'm glad I followed my mom's advice.
So I guess my advice is the same as hers: even if you're not "qualified," apply for the position anyway. Make custom cover letters for each position and if there's not a way to include the letter with the app, do some googling and find the hiring manager on LinkedIn and message/email them. The person who hired me said that my cover letter was what got me the initial interview. So that shit works. If you have friends or family working somewhere with open positions, use those connections. Having an internal referral will go a long way to getting your resume looked at. I know we're all like, boo nepo babies, but networking is a huge part of any industry. Use it to your advantage if you have the advantage (no, I'm not working for my parent's companies, but if there'd been an open position I was interested in, I would have applied for it. No shame).
**I also, on the side, applied for the Austin Fire Department because why not. After a whole lot of mental and physical prep, I was accepted to the academy (in the first class, no less, holla) right before I was offered my current job. But I had to be realistic and say that probably wasn't a good long-term career option for someone who is 110lbs and was barely meeting the physical testing requirements who also has issues with getting overwhelmed in high-input sensory situations. So. Into the tech world I went. This side note just to say, I was keeping my options very open and there's nothing wrong with that either, lol.
I hope this helps!
#answered asks#tech world things#academia#tech#career things#x abandons her dream career so that she might retain a modicum of sanity#i don't remember using that tag but I love that it was suggested to me#because yes exactly#mylife
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I'm actually curious about what you think about 'space colonization.' I don't think much of it, bec A) we haven't even settled Antarctica yet, how will we settle Mars? B) unless you are imbibed with the spirit of malthus himself, what utility does living horrid lives on mars hold for anyone?
Usually this discussion is super annoying to have with people, especially space nerds. They start frothing at the mouth and the whole affair becomes very off-putting.
There's two questions in this, one is about what the term colonization invokes and what space colonization really means when rhetoric hinges on that, esp on notions of justice. I used to not think much of this in the past, bc aliens are not real yet for the impact of colonization on subject populations that is most relevant to real world colonization discussion to come in play. But the critique is imo able to draw out interesting things. Including impacts on humans. This is useful (stuff about curiosity and the moon missile are still iffy to me, see notes for why.)
The second question is, should we devote resources to help humans start living off earth? Other people have written more eloquently abt the way the extremely high risk pipe dream for the benefit of the few being sold by Musk et al is presented in direct obstruction of attempts to fix climate change. Really dangerous distraction when presented as a meaningful alternative to climate mitigation. So, um most future astronaut missions are a waste of people's time. Asteroids and pandemics and aliens and all the other thought experiments that suggest urgent intervention to colonise Maars will always need us to address that most people live on Earth.
Now rambling below.
Tbh I'm skeptical of space exploration itself, forget colonisation, when people sell it as AMAZING FOR ALL RESEARCH FOREVER in general bc most of the useful material science stuff we got out of it you could have got if you just gave material scientists money? Nobody really wanted to give material scientists money before they could put a flag on the moon with it. So yeah, I completely understand the sentiments of the anti space exploration crowd bc of the long role NASA, SSSR/Roscosmos have played in functioning as the prettier face of Defence Budgets. Rocket science is barely science, it is engineering.
Should space exploration be abandoned because it serves little use to human wellbeing in the same way as a new generic antibiotic that bacteria can't resist? No. It may serve some use, and plenty of people derive use from the joy of abstract mathematics and poetry and other things that are not saving the world as well as antibiotics. I don't think its inseparable from the military industrial complex, but for now its so wrapped up in it that I don't see much point in being mad at the minority of people who hate space exploration and think we should not do any of it till we fix the world. I am an engineer who finds kerbal space program fun and dog-eared my biography of kalpana chawla obsessively. So I am not a very fair observer, etc.
#im doing a new thought cabinet right here: space exploration as self expression#you may need to create poetry. some people need to go to space and get fucked up. have you thought abt that?#space
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Post-canon AU: What happened to Vincent Guerra and Bea's video game meta
It was about time to make an actual post to reference as I play the game through with Bea more. If you have other questions about their lore feel free to ask!
Bea is not a V
Bea is playing through a video game BD that Judy helped V create to deal with the trauma of All Of That. She uses a custom BD rig so V can jack in sometimes and see what she does, add commentary, etc. it also allows him to occasionally pipe in Johnny live so Bea can yell at him.
Military doll chip
These are different than the ones Judy makes in that they completely overwrite the individual's personality. This was based on Dr. Kenji Yamamoto's (OC) early research of the Relic. It doesn't just give them combat prowess, it turns them into mindless soldiers at the flip of a switch. This has implications for the Fifth Corpo War because Militech and Arasaka could build a paramilitary fighting force of civilians and trained soldiers alike.
Relic fix-it
The chip became dormant for two years.
PL happened but none of the canon endings happened. At some point before he was supposed to meet Hanako at Embers he just woke up and Johnny was...gone. He woke up feeling a strange emptiness with a very quiet head. He went to Viktor who found that the Relic overwriting process had just...stopped.
This lasted for two years until 2079 when the fic starts.
Johnny is reactivated the first time V jacks into Bea's brain to save her from the initial effects of the corpo monitoring soft Arasaka installed in her. He saves V's life by forcing V out of his interface.
At the end of the fic (spoilers? I'll put it under a cut in case you want to read the fic lol)
Dr. Kenji Yamamoto was an Arasaka researcher Frederick kidnapped to help him with his own attempt at finishing Militech's version to earn his spot back as head of R&D at Militech.
Dr. Yamamoto worked on the military doll chips for Arasaka and was one of the early researchers developing the Relic. His research set the groundwork for the military doll chips.
Bea and V rescue Dr. Yamamoto and free him from Frederick's basement. Bea is near death and they go to Dr. Yamamoto's private research hospital. While Bea is in surgery, he does an experiment with V and Johnny in a special interface.
While he's inside the interface he asks V to raise his right hand which he does in realspace and the interface. Then he asks Johnny to raise his right hand, which V does in realspace but only Johnny does in the interface.
He explains that the Relic has stopped overwriting because their neural maps have merged/overlapped. Because all of the basic body functions are covered, the Relic only needed to overwrite/add new neurons and shit for Johnny. And all the omega blockers helped, similar to how taking certain psychiatric medications take a while to build up to work.
Now their neural maps and synaptic connections and shit overlap. Johnny could control various limbs whenever the fuck he wanted and even take full control if he wanted to. Dr. Yamamoto gives V an option of tweaking the Relic and adding a modification to control the omega blocking effect (omega blockers are a real thing used to treat schizophrenia). He doesn't have the meds but it tweaked the natural imbalance.
What that means is V is primarily in control most often, but it is less effective in times of heightened emotion or if he's under the influence of something. He can talk to Johnny and he can still make commentary and pop up from time to time, but it is less often.
Their dreams can also intersect because their brains and subconscious overlap. V essentially has one and a half brains.
But it's not killing him anymore! Johnny has made peace with it and he and V are very close and very close friends so he's happy to be along for the ride. It does get frustrating sometimes and he will state his displeasure and make fun of V for shit, but that's just Johnny being Johnny.
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My board while I was drawing a beautiful crayfish last year - timelapse here (1 min version) and here (full drawing.) It was a commission for a research group in Aotearoa/NZ.
The reference images they supplied are on the board, along with the test sheet and an early sketch. I mark out two identical outlines for each commission on exactly the same Stonehenge fine art paper. I test everything on one sheet, and the other becomes the shiny finished piece. Detailed drawings take many hours... So as well as trying methods before I commit, test sheets are a thing I can keep in order to retain what I learn. I return to them often to remember how I did things or find new ways to draw something based on past work.
You can also see how my easel is set up...
I've got a drawing board held in a painting easel, which allows me to work vertically. I can't draw over a flat desk or angled drawing board, so this is my adaption. (It works really well as long as non-disabled people don't try to "fix" it... Petition to stop ppl "helping" without asking first, because whyyyyaaaarg.)
I have pencils blue-tacked to the board (over tape strips to prevent the tack leaving greasy marks.) I don't need to change them too often... But you can just peel off whole tape strips with the pencils still attached to move them around. I have more than one board that I can swap around, and I can move strips of pencils between them depending what I'm drawing on each one.
(& yes, Studio Cat did instantly steal my chair there. I swear that cat can fcking teleport.)
The shelf on the easel is full of erasers, pencil extenders, sandpaper for cleaning/filing blending stumps and hard erasers, etc. That and and random crap that I don't clear out often enough! The bits of grey foam are pipe lagging that I cut up to use as pencil holders. The easel is also on wheels. All my art supplies are on a trolley, so I can shift them. Wheels on all the things, basically.
#artist studio#artists studio#drawing board#pencils#pencil#colour pencil art#coloured pencils#colour pencil drawing#colour pencil#colour pencils#color pencil art#colored pencils#color pencil#crayfish#koura#arthropod#invertebrate#crustacean#drawing#pencil drawing#easel#disabled artist
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drawn arrows unseen
part 20 / previous installments/tags
Mason assumes he’ll go into rut, just like when he last spent any amount of time basking in Connor’s scent. He’s braced for it to be about a million times worse, too, now that he knows what Connor smells like wanting him.
Instead, everything just… shuts down.
Mason passes through the days numb, going through the motions of practice and gameday routines, forcing himself to heat up the little plastic boxes of his meal plan on their prescribed schedule. He doubts he could get it up to jerk off, if the idea even sounded appealing, which it doesn’t. It’s like his body’s protecting itself, cutting off every nonessential function so it can do what it has to do to keep his heart beating and his lungs breathing.
And, unfortunately, elite hockey appears to be nonessential. His reaction time slows. He gets winded after every shift. He misses obvious plays. The coaches show him his advanced stats, processed into easily digestible bar graphs and line charts. The lines all plunge downhill after the Arizona game.
The medical staff runs all kinds of tests, scans and blood panels and stress tests. Nothing’s wrong. He just sucks.
They finally send him to UC-Irvine to see a dynamic specialist. She has thin braids neatly coiled at the base of her neck and a button nose that barely shows she’s assessing Mason’s scent. The trainer who drove him to the appointment waits in the lobby while the doctor shows Mason back to her office, which looks more like a professor works there than a doctor.
She asks him all the usual dynamic questions, raising her eyebrows a little when Mason counts backward and tells her it’s been close to two years since he went through a rut. She asks him about whether there was anything that precipitated his current condition, and Mason lies. No, nothing that I can think of. Got back from a road trip and everything fell off a cliff.
It hurts to talk about. It can’t be fixed. He doesn’t want his medical records, wide open to his team and to the NHLPA and to any team that ever acquires him, to say Connor Bedard.
The doctor asks him the same questions several different ways, like she knows perfectly well Mason’s lying. When Mason doesn’t crack, she pauses. She presses her lips together. “It’s strange that you can’t recall a precipitating event. Your symptoms are consistent with a faulty bond.”
“A faulty bond?” Mason tests the phrase in his mouth, It makes it sound like he and Connor are a medical condition. A deformity.
“It can happen if you bond with someone but things aren’t… in order,” the doctor says delicately.
Mason’s barely seen Connor in years. He’s barely even kissed him. It doesn’t make any sense that they’ve bonded, but the phrase feels right. “How does that even work?”.
“The research in this area isn’t where we’d like it to be, ethical issues and all that.” The doctor puts down her notepad, clearly warming up to a preferred topic. “But it suggests that when you have a bond with someone, both partners benefit from your shared energy. It’s a crude analogy, but you can think of the bond as like a pipeline. When the bond’s frayed, the pipe leaks. Water gets diverted through holes. Energy’s wasted. You expend more energy than you’re gaining, so you’re not at peak capacity in other areas of performance.”
“What’s the treatment?” Please, god, let there be a cure, some way to stop hurting.
The doctor quirks her mouth ruefully. “It’s like any other pulled muscle. Just takes time to heal. Unless you’re able to straighten out the bond?”
“Get things in order,” Mason says, echoing her earlier phrase. “With my…”
The doctor nods. “With your partner.”
Mason looks up Connor’s stats. It’s hard to tell from what’s available publicly, and he’s absolutely not going to ask Anaheim’s data team how Connor’s performance over the last month compares to what he was doing before the Arizona game. But Connor definitely hasn’t been lighting it up. Maybe he’s feeling the effects on his end too.
Mason tries to call him to talk it over. But when he gets Connor’s voicemail, it sounds so presumptuous to say it. We’re bonded. We have to fix it. What right does Mason have?
“Everything’s so hard,” Mason finally blurts out after a long silence. Connor probably won’t listen to the end of the voice message anyway. “This could be easy. Please, just let it be easy.”
He doesn’t hear anything back.
(next)
#drawn arrows unseen#ok we've either got one two or three installments left depending on how fast i write#hoping for two so we're done on monday morning and i can reorient myself to luca and johnny
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Andraya Cloud
for Becoming Mrs. BlackBurn 2
"She like to argue so I sent that b to law school"
Windenburg Native, currently living in San Myshuno
Lawyer, hates her job.
Middle child between two boys
Her last break up was with the plumber from her apartment. They dated for a four months and she then realized he was fixing the pipes of the woman who lived on floor 3.
Has never been snowboarding. It's on her bucket list
Favorite song right now Victoria Monet - on my mama
Doesn't like animals or flowers.
Does not believe in wearing flats, unless it's a dope pair of sneakers.
Learning how to play guitar is also on her bucket list
Can barely cook. Spends a lot of money on takeout and delivery
Has a collection of expensive wines that she refuses to open or sell unless it's a special occasion
Don't call her Draya unless you ask for permission first
Andraya was raised by two uptight parents who encouraged her to be the best that she could be. That meant soccer, scouts meetings and church every Sunday. College was a whole new world for her. Boys galore. Parties. Eating whatever she wanted! This new freedom introduced Andraya to a side of her that she never seen before. Thankfully she still graduated top of her class. After law school, Draya spent most of her time partying with girlfriends and jumping from fling to fling. But now as her friends slowly transition from that young, single lifestyle into married with kids, Draya is finding herself craving the same.
Whoever invented that phrase "your career won't keep you warm at night", was so right. Instead of these little boyfriends that she keeps going through, Draya is ready to find the love of her life.
Skills
Charisma - 4 Cooking - 1 Dancing - 3 Fitness - 2 Logic - 6 Research and Debate - 2 Singing - 2
@therichantsim
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It's been 84 years....
Okay, no, it hasn't, but I'm still late xD Well, the pool where I'm working at just shut down for a while, we had a... big problem with the pipes and yeah, I got some days off until they fixed it, perfect.
So let's go, the Four Horsemen of the Legion for Fighting Miramons, and Li Ling's idiocy!
Headcanons on how the four commanders would react to ships involving them (thanks for the request @elsaedelweiss !)
Little Disclaimer: This is based on the Lore Info I got on them, sadly I don't have any of these four Espers and have battle experience with them, but I hope that isn't a problem xD
Gabrielle (Njord)
She is a direct and honest person, so I don't think she'd even try to surpress any emotions here.
And emotional it'll get.
When she was told, that people are shipping here with different colleagues, she was confused, then in denial, then she nervously laughed.
The thought of her being shipped with other people seems to be very unrealistic to her since she isn't exactly the romantic type. But eventually, after some nights of sleep about it, she finds the thought of her being shipped quite funny.
So now Gabrielle is running around, randomly leaning over to a person, saying "Ey. You know, people are shipping us. Come on, let's do the fans a favor." . And then she revels in them getting flustered.
Falken (Horus)
He doesn't even know what shipping is, so the situation gets quite... strange.
After explaining to Falken what shipping means, his face slowly turns into a disturbed frown, the "What-the-Fuck"-brow is raised as well.
And after that, he's not seen again for a longer time.
Where did he wander off to? Well, with him being... a curious little birdie, he decided to look up some of the ships.
After that, he didn't touch a phone for a month or so, only responding to very very very important calls from Raven or so.
He was quite terrified, but only because, well, he managed to find the... dirty side of fandoms first. Which was a grave mistake.
Maybe he'll come around and get more interested in the Fluff Stuff, but the more explicit things? Hell no, he'll burn his phone.
Donar (Thor)
Oh he loves shipping.
This man needs praise and he gets pretty excited by the role many ships tend to give him.
Much like Gabrielle, he enjoys it in the end and finds the sheer thought of crazy or cozy stories written about him (and others) quite thrilling.
His arrogance may kick in from time to time, even to the point that he might go to the significant other in the story and tell them about it. And he's brutally honest about it. Every little detail.
Eventually, they get so annoyed, Li Ling and Tang Xuan as well as Q bann him from any social media platform they can find. Mostly because he takes up all the space in conversations, not particularly because they despise shipping.
Lin Xiao (White Tiger)
She's a bit hesitant at first, not sure what to expect when people tell her about certain 'ships'.
But after learning more about them, she has numerous reactions, that threaten to tear down half of the Union Headquarters.
She freaks out, then gets very confused, after that she's a flustered mess with burning cheeks and after THAT, Gabrielle takes her under her wing and explains to her, that it's just fiction and people's imagination, so she doesn't have to be worried.
Does that help?
No.
But after a while, Lin Xiao becomes a bit more... accustomed to the existence of fanfiction and fanart and after that settles in, she finds her old corage again.
And then? She teams up with Gabrielle, starting to harrass everyone and everything with funny jokes about ships and love interests in general.
Well, until Raven tells everyone to shut the fuck up and behave.
Whew, that was fun! Sorry I'm so late though, a few things happened during the weekend and I literally didn't have any time to do some research and think about what they'd do if they found out about shipping, so.... Yes, I am very sorry.
I hope it is what you imagined and if you have any other requests, I'll do my best to answer them!
Thanks for the question, again, and have a nice day y'all!
#dislyte falken#dislyte donar#dislyte lin xiao#dislyte gabrielle#dislyte raven#dislyte tang xuan#dislyte li ling#dislyte headcanons#dislyte#dislyte q
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°˖✿˚⋆ 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒆 ⋆˚✿˖°
CHAPTER THREE
— Don't Bother —
third person pov
Walking into English, it was clear that all of the students were confused. Supposedly, the ancient teacher from last year and all the years before got replaced. At least that's what everyone was assuming. The teacher had a reputation for closing the door right when the late bell rang and taping a sign on the outside saying 'Don't Bother'. Clearly, no late students were accepted. But that wouldn't make sense because, ten minutes after the bell and she wasn't there. Many students were complaining and talking about leaving class. The rest just made small talk and pulled their phones out.
Osano and Y/N sat a desk apart with a girl named Raibaru Fumetsu in between them. She was nice and had a bubbly personality. Her shoulder length orange pigtails were held up by two pink polka-dotted hair ties and a bright purple headband.
While the two were waiting for the 'old as time' teacher to show up, Raibaru and Y/N got acquainted with each other. It turns out that the ginger had used to live in America as a child before moving to Japan and transferring into Akademi a year before the h/c-ette left. Right before Osano was about to butt into the conversation, the door to the classroom opened.
In walked a slightly disheveled man in his early twenties, at the most, wearing a black blazer and a white button-up underneath. His burgundy pants suited his maroon eyes and black loafers. In his hands was a black messenger bag and his hair was slightly messed up. He rushed to the front desk and fixed his hair in the small mirror on the smart board before turning around curtly with a sheepish smile on his face.
"I am so terribly sorry for being late, class. This didn't happen any other time today. I got stuck in one of the many storage closets after last period. Moving onto more important topics, as you all may know, the teacher that taught here previously, Ms Nabatame, has recently come down with a serious illness. So I am here to fill her position. While I am only a substitute, I promise I know what I'm doing."
"But you're like, our age?" Hana Daidaiyama, one of Musume's friends, piped up from her front row seat, her tone light and teasing. Somewhat flirtatious if you looked into it.
"Right, if you're eighteen then I am three years older than you. I'm twenty-one. I skipped a few grades and I'm still in college. Which I do recommend you all go to, by the way. I was cleared by the school, and my school, to work here as a substitute for as long as it takes for your teacher to get better. Now, I am Mr Rana. Pleased to meet all of you. I can already tell there are some bright minds in this room." His reassuring smile slightly shook as he realized what he just said. "Oh, that makes me sound old."
A chorus of laughs came out from the students at Mr Rana's deflated attitude. Most of the girls in the room (and a lot of the guys) were checking him out and honestly, Y/N couldn't really blame them. 'I mean, of course it isn't appropriate to be looking at your teacher like that, but I'm just saying...'
As the lesson went on, Mr Rana continued to draw out laughs from a good portion of the class just from his charm and unwillingness to risk sounding 'old'. He would constantly mutter things like 'I'm not that wise, I swear,' or the ever-famous, 'I sound like my father.'
When he passed out a worksheet for all of them to do in the last twenty minutes of class, Raibaru helped Osano and Y/N as much as she could while also finishing the questions lightning fast. But the h/c-ette happened to notice Raibaru's happy face fall into a glare when the notorious delinquent passed by her desk to sharpen his pencil. Osoro Shidesu.
Of course, Y/N did research on Akademi before she transferred. Who would she be if she didn't? In the past few months, she had started talking to a hacker who just so happened to work with Saikou Corp. The two called each other often and became fast friends, despite how flirty and off-putting he was. For the most part, Y/N spoke to him for the information he handed to her. He told her all about the students who attended Akademi, since he dropped out right before the new school year started.
After speaking to the man who she called 'Info', how could she not know about Osoro Shidesu? He was the least favorite student of all the teachers by far. He even made the nurse quit her job, and she was replaced with a clumsy male college student just as fast. His legacy would live on through Akademi even after he graduates from the delinquents that follow after him like lost puppies and the injuries and trauma he's given to so many people. Because of that, of course, he's in Y/N's English class.
As he walked by her desk for the seven millionth time, she held her arm out, blocking him from walking. He scowled at her menacingly, and as a response, Y/N faked a convincing scared expression. 'If I were anyone else, I would be pretty scared. So of course, I pretend to be.'
"Yes, sorry, uhm, I was just wondering what you got for number eighteen? I am not having a great time with this worksheet." The h/c-ette played dumb and innocent, her arm springing back to her desk as he looked between her, Raibaru, and the paper in her hand before he leaned closer to her.
"Listen bitch, I don't really care what you need help with." He said in a hushed voice, striding right past her, his jacket almost hitting her in the face.
Raibaru instantly whipped her head to watch him march to the back of the room as he flung himself into his desk and huffed. Y/N quickly lost interest and turned back around and studied Raibaru as she continued to look at him.
"You good, Rai?"
"What? Oh, yeah, sorry. He keeps glancing at you. Probably thinking 'who does this gorgeous chick think she is to interrupt me, can't she see I'm busy hunching my shoulders?'"
"I don't like the way he's looking at you, Y/N." Raibaru and Y/N turned to look at Osano, whose face flushed a bright pink as he scoffed and tried to hide it. "Well, I just mean that he's glaring. Which, you know, isn't very nice. Ok, alright, Raibaru, Y/N, stop laughing. Shut up, you guys."
The ginger girl and the h/c-ette both quietly laughed at Osano's words, before noticing the teacher approaching them. The trio tried to pay attention to their worksheet as Mr Rana walked by.
"Oh, you already finished your questions! In five minutes, my goodness. You are Ms Fumetsu, correct?" Mr Rana looked shocked at her fully bubbled-in paper. Osano's head popped up beside the teacher's chest, his face gawking at the sight in front of him. "You also did, Ms L/N. Good job, both of you. I'm proud to know that I really do have such smart people in my class. I'll take the papers if you want to turn them in early." Raibaru and Y/N both nodded quickly before handing their papers to the well dressed man. He smiled professionally and turned to walk towards his desk.
"How come I didn't get complimented? I swear I'm getting them all right. You two are cheating or something." Osano slumped in his desk, a puff of air moving his bangs while he glared at the two girls.
"You know we didn't cheat, don't be childish. Also you aren't getting them all right. You got numbers twenty-two, seventeen, twelve, nine, four, and two wrong." Raibaru glanced at Y/N with a smug smile before returning her gaze back to Osano.
"How?!"
⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ✿ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹
No one (besides Nemesis) in Y/N's English class was in her next period - Study Hall. Lucky for the girl, Study Hall took place farther away in the library, but Nemesis didn't seem to be in the mood to talk at all. 'Great, thanks for making me start the conversation, buddy.'
"Soooooooo, what's been your favorite class so far?" She looked at him while he marched on, glaring at the tiles beneath him.
"World History."
"And why's that?"
"Nobody tried to talk to me then." He pointedly looked away from the tiles and his harsh red eyes stared into hers. Y/N gladly took the chance to ditch him when they arrived at the library doors, rushing forward to look for anyone that she knew. As if on cue, she heard an energetic boy's footsteps.
"Y/N! We share two classes together, I can't believe it!" Aso Rito wrapped an arm around her shoulders and began to steer her in the direction of a random table. "Looks like fate has decided we'll be friends." 'Yes, that's great and all, but could you be quieter about it?'
"It does seem like it, huh?" The h/c-ette smiled playfully. She didn't notice who was sitting at the table Aso was bringing her to since she was too busy focusing on the people staring at them. Thank goodness that familiar ravenette had her nose buried in a book.
"Taeko, I didn't realize that we could share classes if we're from different years." Hearing her best friend's voice, her head shot up and her lips instantly contorted into a bright smile.
"I'll be honest, I didn't either. I also didn't know that you make friends so quickly." She laughed sheepishly to herself and her eyes drew from Aso back to her book. "Guess it's just another amazing trait of yours."
There was something in her voice that Y/N couldn't quite place. Normally she would have been good at that kind of thing, but the stress of moving must have made her rusty. 'What a shame, one of the only good things I inherited from my parents and it's disappearing.' If Y/N was to be what they wanted, then she would need to bring back her skills of a ruthless businesswoman like her mother. Cunning, manipulative, and able to read someone with a single glance. The manipulative part seemed to still be intact, unlike the other two.
She had no idea why her parents would have wanted her to grow up and be like them if they were just going to hand her off as a trophy wife to someone she barely knew. It made slight sense - a relationship between the future heir of Saikou and the daughter of Saikou America's CEO would signify unity across countries.
A buzz from her phone brought her back to the present, a text from Info.
Info My Beloved
Well, well, well. You might need my services soon. So many people seem to like you and it's only your first day! ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ̀ˋ
You don't need to pay anything, not yet at least. I am happy just talking to you, you're such a sweetheart!!
Of course, there are many people planning to confess to you under the cherry blossom tree, your beauty seems to have swayed them. I can't say I blame them ('-'*).
BUT do you want me to get rid of them for you?
Y/N
Get rid of them, how, exactly?
Info My Beloved
However you want, my dear. (-‿◦☀)
Y/N
Can you just like, I don't know, make them like someone else? Message them and tell them who has a crush on them, hate to say this, but maybe even lie about it??
Info My Beloved
That's eviel :0
*evile
**EVIL
snjkdhsjkdhsjkdhkshdka
On it!
"Y/N? Are you alright?" Aso's words rang quietly through her ears.
"Yes, I'm alright. Sorry, my parents are texting me." She quickly sat down and sighed, her arms folding in front of her chest. Aso took a seat next to her, casually leaning his arms on the table.
"Taeko?" A meek voice sounded behind the ravenette, all three of them turning to look. "Sorry if I was interrupting anything."
There was a boy, clearly a second-year, holding about three dark books. His hair was long and slightly curled at the ends. His eyebrows furrowed together, the light purple of his eyes shining against his pale skin that was quickly reddening at the attention.
"No, you're fine, Oko." Taeko shot him a soft smile, taking on a sisterly role towards him. "What did you need?"
"Oh, well, I was just, uhm, going to ask if you saw my gloves. I seemed to have left them yesterday." Y/N's eyes darted over to Taeko with an eyebrow raised. She shook her head knowingly.
"I did. I'll bring them to you tomorrow." Taeko cleared her throat and stood up, taking a place next to the navy-haired boy. "This is Oko Ruto. He tutors Hanako, my little brother, every Sunday. He is very nice, but a bit shy, so don't feel offended if he doesn't talk to you." All of her words seemed to be aimed toward the h/c-ette, despite looking at Oko for reassurance on what she said, earning a nod in return. "And you already know Aso. But this is Y/N. She and I have been friends since we were tiny and she moved to America about ten years ago and she is back, thankfully." Taeko playfully glared and wagged a finger at her. "She had us all worried that she was gone for good, but here she is when we need her the most!"
"You're welcome." Y/N put a bright smile on her face and elbowed Aso lightly as he laughed. "It's great to meet you, Oko. What do you tutor Hanako in?"
"Well, it's mostly history, but we do talk about math occasionally." His hands fiddled with the fingers of his fully black gloves.
"Oh, I might need you to tutor me!" That statement, while untrue, made Aso and Taeko laugh quietly, Oko sheepishly smiling and hiding his face behind one of his humongous books. His hands moved to adjust his hold and the girl caught a glance of a gold engraved pentagram on a maroon cover.
'So he's into the occult. Good to know.'
During the remainder of Study Hall, the four students all sat around the table and just chatted quietly, a random outburst from the table next to them interrupting their conversations about every five minutes. At around the sixth time, Y/N glared over at the group, noticing a man with a side ponytail holding what looked like a script.
"That's the drama club. They're probably arguing over what play to perform. Last year it was The Phantom of the Opera. I have to admit, it was an amazing performance. Kizano Sunobu, the one standing up, had the starring role as the phantom. Even though I don't particularly like the guy, his voice is gorgeous." Aso looked around at the drama club with an indifferent expression.
"They'll probably choose Romeo and Juliet. I've heard that's the club leader's favorite." Taeko calmly raised her head from her book and rested her chin on her fist. "Not a bad choice, but there's definitely better options out there."
Y/N continued glancing at the drama club until the club leader made eye contact with her. He smirked and waved slightly while she looked away as fast as she could. About ten minutes later, the bell rang and everyone was off to take a fifteen minute break between classes.
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"Finally, the last class of the day. I hate the start of new semesters. Don't you?" Raibaru took a second and paused at her seat, setting her bag down slowly. "Well, I suppose it's worse for you. Being at a new school and all that." She smiled and shook her head slightly, sitting down.
Y/N glanced around the room, taking note of the occult person she met earlier sitting in front of her. "It isn't all that bad. At least I know some people, so I'm not entirely new." Raibaru tilted her head at the thought and hummed in agreement. "Anyways, I'm excited for psychology. What do you know about the teacher?"
"Well, this is the only psychology period, so Akademi hired a nurse in training to teach it for a quarter of the semester, while they work in the actual nurse's office the rest of the day. Don't we all love a promising college student?" She beamed at the idea and giggled softly.
"Yes, we do." A moment later, the room fell silent at the sight of a pink-haired man walking into the room. He looked winded, his cheeks flushed.
He took a moment to calm himself, clearly doing a breathing exercise while his fingers tapped rhythmically on the table. "So sorry, everyone. I had to run across campus. The time in the nurse's office is wrong - it's, like, seven minutes behind. Sorry, again. First days are hard." He continued to mumble about the clock in the office and began to prepare for class, laying his things on his desk.
"Keep in mind that this is the first class I have ever taught. For those of you who don't know, I'm Mujo Kina. I am majoring in psychology at the college here and was chosen to help you all learn about the study of the brain and why it reacts and functions the way it does. I hope you all enjoy hearing about it at least as half as much as I do, considering it is one of my special interests." He huffed, clearly losing his breath again. Mr. Kina began to search for something in his bag, fumbling with it once he found it. He took two puffs out of a bright red inhaler and slumped into his desk chair.
"Since it's the first day, I had planned a series of icebreakers. And I know that no one likes doing those, but we all need to warm up a bit. Be social, no matter how much we don't want to." The class, Y/N included, sighed and looked at the respective people they knew. Raibaru glanced at her, amused. She rolled her eyes playfully and scoffed. "So, I can tell you all are excited. I want you to turn to the person behind you and pair up to discuss your favorite class so far and why it's your favorite. Have fun!"
Since there were two people behind Y/N pairing up, she was left with Oko. He turned his head shyly and waved. "What a coincidence seeing you here. It's been ages since I last saw you. How have you been?"
He laughed slightly and hid his face in his hands. "Well, you know, I've been alright in the years that I haven't seen you. Uhm, I guess we actually have to talk about our classes. So far, mine has been World History, which is mostly just anthropology. I like learning about people and different cultures, so that's definitely why it's my favorite. What's your favorite class?"
"Alright. My favorite has been Chemistry." Oko cut her off by asking if the lab had been destroyed, quickly apologizing after. "Yes, the lab is sealed off for now, so we have to spend our classes in the library. I love the study of chemistry in itself, but I also like the people in it too. I also love your explanation for the history thing. I, too, love the study of people. Plus one of my friend's favorite classes is history." She paused briefly to look at the teacher at the front. "I have it second period, what about you?"
"Oh, I have it first. Great way to wake up, considering I am always tired." He chuckled and Y/N faked a small laugh with him. A minute later, he followed where she was looking to see Mr. Kina scribbling something on a sheet of paper. "He seems... a bit nervous." The girl looked over Oko's shoulder to see him picking at his fingernails.
She laughed, laying her head on her desk. "Definitely more than a bit." She propped her chin on her hand and looked up at Oko. "Can't blame him, though. Teenagers are ruthless." Oko looked somewhat melancholic as he mumbled an agreement.
The first icebreaker took about twenty minutes before Mr. Kina prompted them with another question. Oko and Y/N chose to ignore the questions and sat in silence, occasionally interrupted with comments on classmates or the teacher himself.
Observers bond with other observers.
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈
finally the previously existing chapters are merged and edited, now onto actually writing new material!! (forgive me if it takes a bit longer to upload now)
#male rivals#yandere sim#yandere simulator#yansim#yansimmalerivals#osano najimi#amao odayaka#kizano sunobu#oko ruto#aso rito#mido rana#mujo kina#osoro shidesu#hanako yamada#megamo saikou#taeko yamada#info kun#nemesis kun#reverse harem#female reader#y/n#bittersweet infatuation
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Let me show you... Youtube - chapter 13
Little chapter as we are Sunday and I am lazy. I hope you all have a wonderful day !
Warning : no proof reading, English is not my mother tongue.
If you are interested in reading this fic, the tag "#twst lmsyy" will give you all the chapters.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───
Later that evening, Ace and Deuce came to do a little sleep over. Before the fun began, she asked them to clean a room so everyone could sleep on a bed. They cleaned a room with four beds, corresponding to a room for the first year from what the woman understood.
Kidding, the woman asked if they needed to be tucked in, to which Yuu laughed, Deuce was flustered and Ace answered “Get out !!”. Ah la la, teenagers Imma right ?
When Victoria was back in her room, she couldn’t help but feel anxious. She didn’t know what was the proper reaction to have when a kid witnesses an overblot. Overblots didn’t exist in her world. Was she supposed to smother them with love ? To leave them a little bit so they can digest their emotions ? To cry with them because everything was a traumatic event ? Everything at once ?
She was lost.
She just hoped that the night would help her in her dilemma.
The morning was like always but with more teenagers, arguing about how they will make Riddle apologize. Victoria looked at them over her mug of hot tea, chatting happily. It wasn’t long since they were here, but a kind of routine was already in place.
She got up, prepared the table, Yuu and Grim got down, still sleepy in their PJs. Then they ate, they dressed up and they went to school.
The woman was happy. Despite everything that would happen, they at least had a warm home in the making. Maybe… Maybe Victoria could do a GikTok chain on ‘how to renovate your old busted home’ ? That was… Quite a good idea. She would ask Yuu later. Maybe the Child would love to be a part of it ?
The day at school began quietly. Today her janitor work brought her to the gym. She was impressed, amazed and surprised by seeing the brooms in action. They were flying !! Like really flying ! Without ropes or any kind of help ! Damn, so cool !
She was welcomed by a mountain of muscles clothed in a red track suit. “Hello, Mrs Devi ! I was expecting you ! We have a bit of a situation in the locker room !”
[I don’t like where this is going…]
Aaaand like she thought, the showers were broken. She pinched her nose en sighed. From the look of the pipes, someone was playing roughly next to it and kicked it. How was she going to repair this… Time to bust out the good old WeTube.
After an hour long of research, watching multiple tutorials and reassuring Vargas that yes, the repairs were going along well, she finally had an idea on how to do that. With the help of a good old wench, she bent back the pipe with a lot of tears, curse and effort.
At the end of the class, Vargas came to congratulate her. “It wasn’t easy to bend back the pipe, you could have asked for my help !” Flexing his muscles at the end.
Victoria laughed, cleaning her tears full of mascara. “Yes but you were occupied with teaching. It is a dangerous sport, you need to watch them as much as you can to ensure minimal accidents.”
Vargas smiled. “It is dangerous indeed, but it is worth the effort. The feeling of being free and the wind against your skin is exhilarating !”
Victoria blinked. “Like wearing a skirt or a dress ? You feel the wind like this too.”
The man didn’t know what to answer. After a few seconds, he pulled himself together. “How can you compare such an honorable sport to wearing a dress ?”
She shrugged. “The nerve. And the fact that I never flew except thanks to a plane.”
Vargas huffed. “We need to fix that right now ! Come with me, we will fly on my broom.”
Victoria smiled widely. “REALLY ? Damn, life is GOOD.”
Tag : @boba-tea-fish @hipsterteller
#disney twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland#twst#disney twst#twst lmsyy#twst fanfic#twst yuu#twst wonderland#twst vargas#ashton vargas
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the girl that kindness forgot | part 2
THERE’S NO ONE AS RECKLESS AS YOU
“Laila, are you absolutely sure that it’s a Type 2?” I frantically asked, speaking through my earpiece.
‘I did my research. Unusual and powerful activity confirms that it’s a type 2.’
“Pull up a list of all former residents. I need to find out who this ghost is and what’s their reason to haunt people.” I ordered, before pulling out my rapier and opening the door, finding a chaotic and significantly dangerous scene. Lockwood’s new employee was hanging from a picture frame desperately, screaming out for him to save her, and Lockwood himself was desperately fending the ghost off, loose articles of clothing like his tie and coat flapping around limply. I sprinted up the stairs, quickly spinning around and slashing my blade across the midsection of the translucent supernatural being, making it screech and retreat.
“I thought you were only useful if things got too dangerous.” Lockwood spat as I helped up the girl.
“You walked into a house with a very dangerous Type 2, so I think my help is in order.” I retorted before turning to the girl who looked my age. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine.” She replied. “Who are you?”
“No time. If this is too much for you, you need to leave the house and you’ll be safe.” I explained, but she shook her head.
“No. I’m staying.”
“Angry ghost over here!” I heard Lockwood yell, so I lit a flare and threw it swiftly, fending the ghost off again.
“What did you do to make her angry?!” I interrogated, somersaulting across the room.
”I dunno, maybe your outfit change did it!” Lockwood shot back, throwing another flare.
“You’re being really petty!”
“We don’t have time for this!”
“You’re right, Lucy!” I shouted, “We need to take this elsewhere.”
“How do you know her name?!”
We stood in front of a chimney breast, where the woman disappeared into.
“I got intel from my assistant. Her name’s Annabel Ward, she disappeared in the 80s. I’m banking my money on murder victim.” I explained, hands in my pockets.
“Of course you’ve got intel.” Lockwood snivelled.
“Grow up, will you?!” I snapped.
“Um…” I turned to Lucy, blinking at her because I was interrupted in the middle of my conversation. “Not to be rude, exactly, but who are you?”
”Sorry about that. My name’s Artemis Hernandez-“
“But Miss Hernandez in the office-“
”Shut up. Lockwood and I trained together before I left to help my parents with their company, SP3CTR.” I explained with a smile.
“You mean SP3CTR, the company that made billions, right?” Lucy gasped. “You own it?”
“Yeah. I do.” I grinned.
“Bloody hell-“
“Can we focus on the dead body?” Lockwood piped up, sounding irritated. We broke down the wall, finding the body in there. “I was right. She’s a murder victim.” I stared at him, hard. Really, mate?
“Use the silver net.” I ordered, holding my weapons at the ready. The male stepped back, his foot crunching something.
��Ooh, careful.” Lucy warned. “You broke the circle.” We fixed it, and my mind instantly connected with something.
“We’re not alone.” I whipped around to see Annabel herself, the doors slamming shut.
“Boring. Try something else, would you?” Lockwood taunted.
“Don’t!” Lucy contradicted. “She’s angry.”
“Living over dying, Lucy!” I lashed out, sending Annabel back, but she rebounded, knocking the rapier out of Lucy’s hand. Lockwood was distracted, so the ghost was advancing on him, and I felt a connection with her.
You’re just like him.
Help me…
Save me…
Let me go...
“LOCKWOOD!” I screamed, shielding him. “If you wanna get to him, you’ll have to go through me. And then you won’t get what you want, d’you understand?” I saw myself in Annabel, a girl cursed to be lost. And I wanted to help her, I really did.
“What are you doing?” He asked.
“Saving you, what else?” I retorted. “Now get the job done!”
“Alright, Lucy, I’m gonna hold her back with Hernandez. You get a silver net over the body. In other words, Plan F.”
“That's not Plan F.”
“Uh… I mean Plan B.”
“Plan B is salt bombs! She’s too strong for salt bombs!”
“For god’s sake! We’ll draw her attention, you contain the source.”
“That’s Plan E.”
“When this is done, you need to look over the lettering system!” I shouted, initiating the distraction part of the plan.
“Speak for Lockwood!” Lucy replied, covering the body with a net. However, she froze.
“EARTH TO LUCY!”
“Hurry, Lucy!” She suddenly whipped around, blindly throwing the flare. As if in slow motion, the flare exploded, the plaster catching on fire and started spreading quickly. Lucy ran to Lockwood, taking him by the shoulders. “Are you alright?”
“Apart from our client’s house burning to the ground, absolutely fine.”
“What took you so long? What exactly were you doing?” I asked, stepping forward.
“I told you. Something wasn’t right, I had to…”
“Had to what? What wasn’t right? We secured the source, didn’t we?”
“We should not be having this conversation here.” I cut in, climbing onto the balcony’s rail, Lockwood following.
“Agreed. We should jump from here while there’s still something to jump from.” Lockwood agreed.
“Jump? No, it’s too high, we’ll breaks our necks!” Lucy contradicted, eyes apprehensive.
“Do we have another option?!” I swiftly contested. “On my count. One, two, three!” We leapt from the balcony, landing in two crumpled heaps on the floor, but luckily we had no broken bones or necks. I’d landed on my feet, so as the other two got up, I couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Laugh it up, Hernandez.” Lockwood complained. “We need to get back to my house. And quickly.”
“What were you thinking, showing up like that?” Lockwood whispered angrily as we were walking back. “Lucy and I had it under control.”
“Let’s see, you angered a Type 2, set a house on fire and as the cherry on top, you almost got ghost touched. If I wasn’t there to help, then you’d both be dead.” I snapped equally as angry and quiet.
“You rejected helping me.”
“Now I’m aware that without my help, you most definitely will end up in a bad place.” I retorted.
“And why is that?”
“There’s no one more reckless than you, Anthony Lockwood.” I matched his gaze, icy blue meeting dark brown.
“I can think of someone.”
“Oh yeah? Who?”
“Artemis Hernandez.”
#anthony lockwood x reader#anthony lockwood#anthony lockwood x oc#george karim#lockwood and co#lucy carlyle#inspector barnes#turstin yaris hernandez#artemis hernandez
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Pokemon AU, part 2
Finally finished this thing, it's the Thea Sisters in the Pokemon AU :D
Headcanons:
Nicky has the most experience in Pokemon battles, since Australia's trainer community is very fierce in competitions. Her newest addition to her team, Sizzlipede, is accompanying her to Mouseford solo, so they can have some one-on-one training together.
You see here that Colette owns a Corviknight. Yes, Colette does in fact own a Corviknight. If you wanna know how that happened, I might explain it in a post, or maybe even a one-shot on AO3 :3c She loves her giant corvid very much and will protect him with her life. E-even though more often than not it's Corviknight saving/helping her. She also has an Eevee, and it and Corviknight get along very well. Colette's more of a Pokemon Contest person than a Pokemon battle person.
Paulina is planning on becoming a Pokemon researcher, and even though she's still early on in the process, she's already doing volunteer work in efforts to help Pokemon. Her main partner is Minun. Its partner Plusle is with Maria all the way in Peru. Every time Paulina and Maria videochat, Plusle and Minun jump at the opportunity to say hi to each other and talk to each other for a bit. Even though Minun is the Pokemon most often out of its Pokeball, there may or may not be more Pokemon Paulina has that she's fostering :]
Pam has a Heatmor. Yes, Heatmor are canonically 4'7" (139.7cm) in height. The two have a very silly dynamic, in that Pam's Heatmor helps her with anything heat-related. Need to light up a wood oven? Heatmor's on the case. Need to fix a warp in an engine pipe? Heatmor's got you covered. Need to solder something? Heatmor's gotchu bro. Need to sear the top of a pizza even though it could very easily be done in the oven? Yes, Heatmor can do that too. It takes pride in its helpfulness, and Pam is happy that this makes it happy.
Violet owns an Altaria that she's had since childhood. The Alolan Vulpix was a gift from her parents after they went on a trip and found a little white Vulpix that they thought Violet would like. It took a while for Altaria and Vulpix to get along as well as they do now. If you're looking for Vi and can't find her, look in the last place you saw her Altaria. High chances are, she's either with it, or they're straight-up taking a nap together. I might elaborate on how she met Altaria because it's very fluffy and warm and fuzzy. Like Altaria's wings--
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Daydreamer II Dream of the Endless (Part 2)
✧Warnings: some explicit
✧Pairing: Witch! OC x Dream of the Endless/Morpheus
✧Summary: When Dream of the Endless was captured by the magus Roderick Burgess and imprisoned, the Waking World and the Dreaming seemed to be on the path to destruction with Dreams and Nightmares running rampant with no master to keep them in check. All hope seemed to be lost until a special little witch made her way into the Dreaming, her existence vastly different from any other human and with her abilities, maybe hope wasn’t lost after all.
✧Notes: I have only heard of the Sandman through the Netflix and though I’ve watched all of it, I know little to nothing of anything outside of it so apologies if some things aren’t cannon. I am doing my research as I write this out. I also haven’t posted my own writing on tumblr in years so if there are any tips, critiques on post formatting and/or the story of the Sandman in general, would totally appreciate it. (Just please be nice lol I’ve only started writing again all of a sudden)
✧Warnings: some explicit language but besides that, nothing else (yet)
✧Word count: 1711
✧ Part 1 Part 3
Katarina could feel her body slowly getting more tired as she and Lucienne walked around the castle, working together to test the young girl’s abilities as she did what she could to fix the falling castle. As Katarina moved rubble, the two conversed about what was happening in the Waking World and the realm, the two surprisingly quick to form a bond the longer they talked. Katarina spoke of what she could recall before she woke up in the Dreaming, nothing of the night out of the ordinary before she had gone to bed. Lucienne informed her about the Corinthian, the rogue nightmare who had made his way into the Waking World, which caused the King to take action and explained what he was doing out of the Dreaming in the first place. By the time they had reached the library, Katarina couldn’t help but slump against the first chair she could come into contact with, her head leaning against the back as she massaged her throbbing temples.
“My apologies, my lady,” Lucienne said as she stood beside her and Katarina couldn’t conjure the energy to question why she was suddenly calling her that instead of her name, “I may have pushed you too far.”
“No, no I’m good. Don’t worry, Lucienne I am glad I could be of help to clear some of the damage though I’m sure your King would’ve done a much better job.”
“What you have done is more than enough. Take a bit of a rest. I shall prepare some tea and dinner.”
“Thank you, Lucienne,” the young girl smiled up at the pointed ear librarian and she returned the favor, slightly bowing her head before disappearing. Katarina was now alone in the massive library and she somehow mustered the energy to scan the room, shelves after shelves and every nook possible covered in books. Her eyelids were growing heavy, her body sinking into the soft cushions of the chair and she let out a sigh as she willed her body to relax. Though it was only moments that had passed, Katarina felt more rested when her eyes opened as a tray was placed in front of her, a plate of food and a cup of tea piping hot on top of it. Her mouth seemed to immediately water but she sucked it back, not realizing how hungry she was since well, she was dreaming. Do you need to eat when you’re dreaming? She wondered to herself as she dug in, nodding a thank you to Lucienne, who bowed her head in return.
“So…this Lord Morpheus of yours,” Katarina began after she had finished her meal, dabbing a napkin against her lips, “has been gone and because he is the King of Dreams and Nightmares, the whole Waking World will continue to suffer under the sleepy sickness?”
“That would be correct, my Lady,” Lucienne said and Katarina sighed, her hands leaning on the many books of dreamers that were laid out onto the desk.
“And where is everyone else? Did no one else go to look for their lord, their king?”
“Many have, unfortunately. Some did go to find the lord but to no avail while others…well, I’m sure they’re making themselves right at home in the Waking World. When Lord Morpheus was here, we, as Dreams and Nightmares, were not meant to leave the Dreaming, let alone meddle in the lives of humans when they are awake.” Katarina nodded, her eyes turning back to the many books before, realizing that these were the books of dreamers. Some pages were writing themselves, scribbled text appearing and writing out exactly what was happening in their dreams while others remained blank, most likely the ones who had not slept.
“You have my journal, yes?” Katarina asked and Lucienne nodded before handing her the book she was holding, her name written in beautiful golden cursive. “Perfect.” she smiled as she brushed her fingers across her name before she opened the book, flipping through the pages.
“What do you mean, my lady?”
“If I am in the Dreaming and if all that I had left back here when my child self was dreaming, then everything that I was able to do back then would technically work, correct?”
“I…I suppose so,” The librarian said, though her eyebrows were still furrowed, her tone showing her uncertainty, “Why do you ask?”
“Because that means that my spells worked. Even the ones I couldn’t get to work when I was awake and every one of those spells are written in this book that recorded my dreams.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning I can find Lord Morpheus and try to bring him home. I just need to find the right spell and I need to see exactly where he is.” Lucienne’s eyes widened as they both stood to hover over the books, quickly sifting through the pages. Katarina couldn’t help the smile as she was brought through her childhood, her dreams, everything that she had ever hoped to become as well as all the spells that she had learned or even written herself right there before. A caw from the distance tore their attention from the book as a raven of black and white perched itself on a globe on the table, its head tilting at them.
“Sweet Jessamy, you have returned!” Lucienne called in excitement and the raven squawked in excitement. “I cannot believe it has been over a century…have you found our lord?”
“Excuse me?” Katarina asked, “Over a century??”
“Yes,” Lucienned nodded and the young girl noticed the sadness that read across the librarian’s face, “It has been over a century since our lord had left the Dreaming.”
“How…how long have I been here? Asleep?”
“About eighty years, my lady.” The realization of time passing seemed to pierce through Katarina, not thinking about the concept until now. Her body seemed to react before she could, falling onto a chair with Lucienne’s help as her hands clenched into a fist.
“Why have I not aged? Is that how it works here in the Dreaming?”
“You take on the form as you wish, my lady,” The librarian said but her face showed more, Katarina urging her to continue. “However…on top of sending Jessamy to look for her master, our lord, I had her check on you and well…your physical body has also not aged after all these years.”
“How?”
“I’m afraid I do not have the answers you seek. According to Jessamy, your body is protected within the home you grew up in, your doors locked and the only other presences being caretakers…and your younger sister.”
“How is she?” Katarina asked quickly and Lucienne gave her a comforting hand on her shoulder, though she knew no comfort would be enough for the words she was about to give. “Is she…?”
“She is, like you, spending time here in the Dreaming all this time. It has all but stopped her disease but only because she has remained asleep. Unlike you…she has aged.”
“Where is she? How have I not been able to see her all this time?”
“She is not like you…she is living her life here in the Dreaming but she doesn’t know it. Without Lord Morpheus here to monitor the dreams and nightmares, it is hard to tell exactly how she is living in this realm…and I have not been able to find her.”
“Fuck…” Katarina whispered, her head falling into her hands as she tried to swallow all this information down. She wondered to herself why she was so surprised by this information more than anything else. It only made sense that her younger sister had only two ends, one being eternal sleep or never sleeping and Katarina had to admit to herself that the latter would be a harder pill to swallow, knowing that her sister wouldn’t have survived if that is how it played out. She took a deep breath and just hoped, praying to the goddesses that her sister is at least able to have somewhat of a peaceful sleep, feeling a poke that drew her from her thoughts. Her eyes met that of the raven, who looked at her with piercing eyes and she could’ve sworn for a moment that blue, not black, eyes stared back at her for a moment.
“Jessamy has seen where the lord is being contained,” Lucienne explained but Katarina’s eyes remained on the raven. Her hand hesitantly moved to settle on Jessamy’s feathers and she let out a gasp as pictures seemed to zoom through her vision. A picture of a manor, dark hallways, a red carpet before descending deeper into its passages, an old man, a young one, a young woman and a plethora of guards.
“I understand,” Katarina whispered and she leaned down to be at eye level with the raven, her fingers brushing against her feathers. “Just get me closer, please, Jessamy. I need to see exactly where he is.” The crow cawed, seemingly in agreement before fluttering away back to the Waking World. When the two turned back to each other, Katarina gave Lucienne a nod, a silent agreement to keep searching for a way to return the Dream Lord home, their attention back to the books.
Katarina realized rather quickly that she and Jessamy seemed to create a bond, though not one as strong as the raven and her master. It took a good amount of energy but with that and a lot of concentration, Katarina was able to see the Waking World through Jessamy’s. It felt like looking at the world through a fish eye’s lens and the young girl would find herself motion sick if she paid too much attention to the wind blowing through the raven’s feathers. For some time now, Jessamy would adventure through and around the manor, trying to get closer to where her master was being kept, giving Katarina a front row seat.
“She’s getting closer,” Katarina muttered and Lucienne listened intently, holding onto the young girl’s hand. Grounding her, as she explained. “We’re almost there, Lucienne.” The raven was inside the manor, watching the old man - Roderick Burgess - lighting a cigarette before walking out of the room. That’s it, Katarina thought as Jessamy flew through the manor, lighting a cigarette and dropping it onto the newspaper that laid on a bed. As the flames came up, she flew into the basement, quick to hone in on the pale, man sitting in the glass sphere in the middle. Katarina couldn’t help the gasp that left her mouth at his state, unclothed, without literally anything but his own limbs to cover him. His eyes lit up at the site of the raven, standing up to meet her gaze as his hand went up, ghosting over the glass near her face.
“God, people are fucking disgusting,” she muttered but before Lucienne could have her elaborate, the young girl’s hand grip tightened and her body was suddenly tense. “Jessamy!” Katarina cried as the raven tried ever so fervently to break the glass with her beak, her wings fluttering loudly behind her. The young girl’s heart was beating faster and she let out a scream as a gunshot was heard and her eyes snapped open, tears quick to fall as the connection between them turned black, her presence back in the Dreaming.
“No…no!” cried Katarina as she stood up, slamming her fist against the desk as her tears dropped onto the paper before her. “They killed her, Lucienne! They fucking killed her!” Lucienne’s eyes closed, not allowing her tears to fall as Katarina sobbed, her body feeling everything the raven as well as the master felt as her life was suddenly taken. The paid Katarina felt in that moment was immeasurable, not understanding the wave of emotions suffocating her body.
“Emotions,” Lucienne said softly, trying to keep her composure, “Emotions are heightened here in the Dreaming, my lady.”
“Right,” Katarina sniffled out, violently wiping her tears as she looked up, a new fire blazing in her eyes, “They will pay for what they did to her, Lucienne. And soon.”
“My lady?”
“We found him.”
#morpheus x oc#morpheus fanfiction#morpheus fluff#the sandman#sandman netflix#sandman#dream of the endless#dream imagine#dream fanfic#dream fanfiction
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